Dual Deception
by waterbaby134
Summary: Minelli's got a job for our favourite duo, and Lisbon's not going to like it. I know the summary sucks, but give the story a go! A secret santa gift for spyglass. Now continued! Now T!
1. Chapter 1

**Of the three stories I wrote for the Summer Secret Santa on jello forever, this was my favourite so i thought i'd share it with you!**

**Rating: K+**

**Pairing: Duh. Anyone who has read any of my fics knows my heart belongs to Jisbon!**

**Prompt: Jisbon undercover.**

* * *

"Come on, just tell me."

"No Jane. It's none of your concern."

"It is. I'm making it my concern."

"No you are not."

There was once a time when such bickering would've turned heads in the CBI building. Ears would prick up hopefully at the raised voices, hoping to get some titbit of gossip that could be pulled out over coffee in the break room. Those days were long over. The sound of bickering was as familiar to the staff as the humming of the traffic in the street below, mere background noise.

Sometimes the odd person glanced up as two people strode past them, so deeply engrossed in their conversation that they didn't seem to realize how loud they were being. Once you got over the thinly veiled hostility they seemed to harbour for one another, it was easy to appreciate what a well-matched pair they were. She, petite, green-eyed, raven-haired. He, blond, wearing a custom-made suit and sporting a dazzling smile. They looked good together, most people thought. Now if only they could be as mentally compatible as they were physically.

They disagreed on nearly everything, and what they didn't disagree about; they fought about, sometimes arguing until they had shouted themselves hoarse. And still none of their colleagues got excited.

"Why are you being so defensive about this?" he asked her. "As your friend I have the right to be concerned for your welfare."

"You're my friend now? When did I start palling around with the thorn in my side?"

"Good call, Lisbon. Clean, but still very painful. Nice."

"Don't patronize me!"

* * *

Special Agent Virgil Minelli rolled his eyes as he heard the voices of his best agent and her whack-job consultant. The amazing thing was that he could hear the two of them going at it through the solid elevator door as if they were standing right next to him. He sighed. Today he had been doing battle with a rather nasty migraine and this was just what he needed, a trip into the war zone. What was worse, he was bringing news he was sure Agent Lisbon was not going to like and found himself praying that she didn't shoot the messenger. The doors opened, and it was like somebody had suddenly turned up the volume.

"I'm just looking out for you," Jane said, soothingly.

"By prying in to MY personal life, MY being the operative word here. Get this through your thick head. It is none of your business."

"Nonsense. Your business is my business."

"Oh, sometimes I just want to rip your head off!" she snarled at him.

"That would be ill-advised my dear. If you did that, one of these nice state agents around the place would have to arrest you, and we wouldn't want that."

"I'd bet you fifty bucks that the majority of them would want to come over here and help."

Minelli approached the two of them, who were still so wrapped up in their own little world they didn't even notice him approach. When he was standing beside them, he waited a few beats but they still paid him no mind as they discussed the finer points of ripping Jane's head off. He cleared his throat, loudly.

Lisbon broke off from a detailed analysis of exactly how she would dispose of Jane's body after she was finished with him and turned to Minelli in surprise.

"Oh hey, boss. When did you get here?"

Minelli refrained from rolling his eyes.

"He's here to arrest you for uttering threats against a state official," Jane goaded her, trying to draw her back into an argument. Minelli watched her try to keep from snapping back at him, but he knew Lisbon was the kind of person who always liked to have the last word, and nobody knew better than Jane how exactly to get under her skin. Sure enough, the bait was just too tempting.

"A state official? I hope you don't mean yourself."

"Of course I do. I work for a state department of justice and I am very valuable to its processes. Ergo, state official."

"The only way you would be valuable to this department is if someone put a million-dollar price on your head. I can just see it now. 'Wanted: Dead or Alive. Patrick Jane. Can be recognized by three-piece suits and overall air of smugness, which makes him think he is superior to everybody.'"

"All right, that's enough!" Minelli cut in; tired of witnessing a dispute that would be better suited to a pair of kindergartners in a playground then a pair of civil servants in a DOJ office building. "Can we adjourn to your office, Agent Lisbon? I have something I need to discuss with you."

"Sure, boss. Is it a new case?"

"Something like that. And it concerns both of you, so Jane you'd better come too."

"Sounds intriguing," said Jane. "I'm in."

* * *

Lisbon led the way to her office and offered Minelli the seat behind her desk. She took one of the opposite chairs while Jane preferred to stretch himself out on the couch with him arms behind his head

"So what's this new case?" asked Lisbon at once. Jane thought that it simply wasn't right to look so eager at the thought of more work. The team were stretching themselves thin already with five open cases, the last thing they needed was another one.

"It's not a case exactly," Minelli hedged. "More of a project."

"Well whatever it is, we'll do it," said Lisbon, and Jane could practically see her mentally rearranging things to make room for this new job.

"Glad to hear it," said Minelli, working hard to keep the smirk off his face. When she found out what she'd just agreed to, she was going to flip.

"The Narcotics squad have planned a huge sting which is going to take place in two weeks," he said. "The operation is part of a Federal attempt to break up a nation-wide cocaine-smuggling ring. We've been charged with dealing with the California component, based in Los Angeles. "

"If it's a Fed case, why can't they do it themselves?" asked Lisbon.

"The California chapter is the smallest so as per usual they're focusing on the big, juicy arrests for themselves and leaving us the scraps," he said, grumpily. "But scraps or not, it's still a huge publicity coup for the CBI. It'll bring lots of good press."

"OK. So what, the Narcotics boys have asked for me as extra back-up or something?"

"They've requested that you be part of the operation yes," said Minelli evasively.

Lisbon shot a sideways glance at Jane. "Look boss, I'll be more than happy to go with them to provide a little more firepower but I'm not sure Jane's the right person to bring along. If it's going to come down to a shootout, I think one of my agents would be a better choice."

"Hey!" Jane protested from over on the couch. "I'm a good shot. You know that, you saw!"

"You're not a field agent," she said. "You're a consultant."

Minelli raised his voice slightly. "The LAPD have offered us the use of their entry team in return for shared credit in the arrests. We'll have plenty of units so we don't need you to take part in the arrest."

"I don't understand. What-?"

"Settle down, woman," said Jane. "Let him finish." But there was a twinkle in his eye that made Minelli think that he might have guessed what was coming.

"We need you to pose as a potential buyer. If we can arrest one of them in the act of selling to you we might be able to persuade them to testify against the others in return for leniency when we raid the rest of them."

She looked perplexed. "You want me to go undercover?"

"No, Lisbon," said Jane. "He wants _us_ to go undercover. Together. Am I right?" he asked Minelli, who nodded.

"Together?" repeated Lisbon. "Together as what?"

Jane addressed Minelli once more. "From the way you're trying your best not to smile, I'm guessing you want us to pose as a married couple. Would that be correct?"

Minelli nodded.

"WHAT?" Lisbon exploded, so loudly that passers-by peered through the window to try and see what was going on. "Me…married…him? No way. No!"

"May I remind you Teresa, that you did already agree to this," said Minelli.

"Well that was before I found out that you wanted me to pretend to be married to _it_!" She jerked a thumb in Jane's direction.

Jane got up off the couch and came to stand beside her. "I'm a little hurt," he said. "Would it really be that torturous to be fake-married to me? I think I could be a very good fake husband if you let me. I'll cook you dinner, and do the laundry, and mow the fake lawn at our hypothetical house-"

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped at him. "Can't you get someone else to do it?" she pleaded her boss. She looked desperate that Minelli found he felt a little guilty. Lisbon was in many ways, like a daughter to him and he hated to see her so upset.

"I'm sorry, Teresa,' he said. "But all the undercover personnel are on other assignments and we don't have time to train and brief anyone else. Besides, you two fight like a married couple already, so you won't even have to do a whole lot of acting."

Lisbon just glared at him, though it didn't have the same detrimental effect it had on most people. It probably had to do with the fact that Minelli was her superior, and though they were on reasonably good terms, in the end she had to do as she was told.

"This is going to be a blast!" said Jane enthusiastically. "Count me in!"

Minelli nodded. "Good. Teresa?" he asked his agent.

Lisbon was as stubborn as they came, but she was no fool. She could tell there was no way of getting out of this now, she had agreed after all. She made a mental note not to agree to anything in the future without finding out what it was first.

"Fine," she said irritably, and Minelli smiled at her.

"Thank you," he said. "It might not be so bad. You'll see."

Somehow, she doubted it.

* * *

Minelli handed them each a manila folder. "Here's all your background information as well as your new names, driver's licences, and IDs."

"How did you get all these so fast?" Lisbon wondered.

"I have my ways," said Minelli mysteriously. "Now we'll need to get you installed in your new place in L.A as soon as possible. Be ready to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? But what about my team?"

"Appoint one of them to be in charge while you're away. That person is the only one you can tell what you're up to. Due to how important this operation is we can't risk our cover being blown."

"Sure, because my team are secretly criminals working to destroy the CBI from it's very core," she said sarcastically. "I trust them."

"I know you do, and so do I," he said soothingly. "But the Feds were very clear. Strictly need-to-know."

"OK, OK. Cho's in charge."

"Good. Now once you've done that I'll organise for you both to take the rest of the day off and prepare yourselves. Try and get used to calling each other by your new names if you can, we don't want any slip-ups later."

"No-one will believe Lisbon's gone home early," Jane pointed out.

"I know. That's why you're both suspended."

They both looked up at Minelli in surprise.

"Don't worry, I won't be filing any paperwork, and it won't show up on your record," he said, more to Lisbon then Jane, who really couldn't care less about such mundane things as suspensions. "We just needed a legitimate reason for you both to be away for a while."

Lisbon was still taking all this in, when he rose from his chair. "Your 'suspensions' will be effective in about half an hour. Good luck." he said, and went out.

As soon as he was gone, Jane eagerly opened the folder he had been given, and flicked through it until he found his new ID.

"William Hayne," he read. "That's not so bad. And I must say, this photograph is quite flattering as well." He turned the card around at all angles, admiring it.

Lisbon sat with the folder in her lap. Once Jane had finished marvelling at his photograph, he turned to her.

"Come on, let's see yours then," he said, snatching it from her.

"Hey!' she shouted, grabbing for it. "Give it back!"

Paying her no heed, he quickly located her ID. 'Your name is Rachel Hayne, but it says here your maiden name was Pearce."

"Great," she said, sardonically.

He closed the folder. "Well I guess there's only one thing left to do."

"Shoot ourselves in the head so we don't have to go through with this?" she suggested hopefully.

"Don't be stupid."

"Who said it was stupid? Seems like a great idea to me."

Jane opened the blinds in the office and pushed the door slightly ajar.

"There's something I need to ask you," he said, much louder than necessary. "It's really important, and it's about us, and our future."

Then when he came back he took her hands in his and lowered himself down on one knee.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed at him. "Get up!"

"Come on, if you're going to be my fake wife, I can at least fake-propose to you," he whispered back.

"No!"

"You're more beautiful then all the stars in the sky," he continued, loudly again. "And you are my heart's one desire."

Lisbon resisted the urge to projectile-vomit. Could he be any more pathetic?

"Shut up!" she snapped at him. "People can hear you!"

He lowered his voice again. "That's the idea,' he informed her cheekily. She tried to pull her hands away from his, but he was holding them tight so she couldn't get away. "Now we can be suspended because of our 'illicit office romance', instead of the usual boring reasons."

"I'm perfectly OK with the 'boring' reasons," she said.

"I know you are," he said. "But I'd much prefer to go out amid the scandal of a steamy affair. Way more fun."

At this point, one of the women from Payroll happened to walk past the office. When she saw what was going on, her eyes lit up. She rushed out into the bullpen.

"Come quick!" she squealed. "I think Jane's popping the question to Lisbon!"

"No way," said Trey, from Cyber Crimes. "It can't be."

"I'm sure it is!" she said, unperturbed. "He's down on one knee and everything!"

* * *

There was a deafening screeching sound as forty-odd people rose as one, pushing back desk chairs and a virtual stampede as they raced across the room to Lisbon's office. Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt were in the lead. This they had to see.

Jane heard the thundering of his approaching colleagues and grinned at Lisbon, who looked so pale that he thought she might faint.

"I am going to kill you," she said in a voice so quiet it was almost threatening.

"Not much chance of that," he whispered back. "You can barely stand, let alone do me any physical harm."

"Give me a minute and I'll get there."

Outside the door, they could hear pushing and jostling as everyone vied for the best spots.

"This suspension is coming at just the right time for me," he said in a carrying voice so that everybody outside could clearly hear it. "Because it's made me realize that this job has been holding me back from what I really want, and what I really want… is you."

Muffled giggles and whispered 'aws' could be heard from outside.

"You are the most controlling, domineering woman I have ever met," he went on. "You're so damn stubborn that you drive me up the wall and even when you know you're wrong you always have to have the last word, but you're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time and I am completely and madly in love with you."

She felt herself flushing with pleasure, and immediately was disgusted in herself. She was getting all stupid over a fake proposal. Jane was spouting off emotions he did not feel and here she was, lapping it up.

Good Lord, she needed to get a life.

"So now I am going to ask you the most important question a man will ever ask in his life," said Jane. "Will you, Teresa Lisbon do me the honour of becoming my (-'fake', he mouthed)-wife?"

The assembled spectators waited with bated breath for her answer, and Lisbon who felt that now she was here, she may as well do the thing properly, looked into his eyes. To her surprise, along with the glint of pleasure he was getting from her embarrassment, she also saw something that looked scarily like…hope.

She'd been planning on saying no, just to screw him up, but now she wasn't so sure. Had some tiny, insignificant part of him actually meant that?

Taken aback, she answered without thinking.

"Yes."

* * *

There was a split second's pause, and then the room erupted into applause. Women squealed with delight and hugged each other, while men opened their wallets and exchanged bills.

At the front of the crowd, Rigsby and Van Pelt's jaws dropped in unison, and even the briefest expression of surprise crossed Cho's features as the 'newly-engaged' couple turned around to face them.

"Give her a kiss!" shouted Katie, the woman who had called everyone over. There were shouts of agreement all round.

"Do we have to?" Lisbon asked Jane, quietly.

"If we wanna sell this, we do," he said. "Don't worry, I'll make it quick."

"I mean it, I am going to murder you," she hissed. "Slowly and painfully."

"Go ahead and threaten me all you want, but could you at least pretend to look happy?" he asked her. "We just got engaged."

"Fake engaged!" she snapped, as loudly as she dared.

"Come on you two, what are you waiting for?" came a shout from the crowd.

"They're getting impatient," said Jane nervously.

"Just so you know, I am not going to be the one to tell all these people that we aren't really getting married," she said.

"Deal."

Before she could respond, he pulled her into a passionate kiss, amid cheers and wolf-whistles. Rather then pulling away, she found herself kissing him back, her fingers running through his hair, forgetting about everyone watching. There was nobody but the two of them in the world.

* * *

Minelli had heard the commotion from upstairs and came striding through the crowd.

"What the hell is going on in here?" he demanded. "The whole building can-"

He trailed off as he saw Lisbon and Jane entwined around each other, kissing as if they were teenagers on a first date.

For the first time in his life, Virgil Minelli was rendered speechless.

"They just got engaged," sighed Katie. "Isn't that adorable?"

There were several words that came to his mind as he watched the spectacle, none of which he could say out loud but it was safe to say that they were mostly of the four-letter variety and 'adorable' was certainly not one of them.

"All right, everybody back to work!" he barked. "I'm sure you all have reports to finish!"

The crowd dispersed, muttering things like 'killjoy' and 'bitter old man.' Soon, only Lisbon's team remained, still rooted to the spot with astonishment.

Jane and Lisbon broke off from the kiss, breathless and red in the face.

"Whoa," said Rigsby, alerting them to the team's presence.

"Something you guys want to share with us?" asked Cho.

"We'll explain later," said Lisbon.

They were still so floored by what they had seen, the three agents obeyed straight away, with no further questions.

Jane and Lisbon smiled at each other.

"I think we sold it," said Lisbon.

"Yes we did," said Jane.

"Bravo," said Minelli dryly and they both cringed as they turned around to face him.

Minelli tried several times to form a sentence but failed. Eventually he was able to get out a single word.

"Why?"

Lisbon looked to Jane for the answer. Minelli noticed that they were still holding hands. He looked pointedly at them. Jane and Lisbon seemed to realize what he was getting at, and immediately let go, though he suspected that they did so rather regretfully.

Jane plastered on his most winning smile, the one that had got him out of numerous tight corners in the past.

"We were just, uh, practicing?"

* * *

**Hope you liked it. I sure had fun writing it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Against my better judgement I've decided to continue with this story. I've been doing my best to focus on 'Puppeteer' but ideas for this one keep getting into my head. And so therefore, I bow to the inevitable.**

**I must be insane, committing to two multichapters at once, ah well, it's done now.**

**Rating is T**

**Pairing is the obvious (ie Jisbon)**

**Disclaimer: If it were mine I'd be getting paid for this. As it happens, I am not. Instead I am forced to write it on a plane ignoring the death glares of flight attendants.**

* * *

Lisbon gritted her teeth in frustration as yet another minute passed without the car moving anywhere. She had half a mind to get out and start waving her badge around to get people to move, but she somehow managed to hold in the urge. For the most part, Lisbon considered herself a fairly patient person.

Jane disagreed.

Lisbon had many virtues, but patience was not one of them. He figured someone as strong-willed and (dare he say it?) hot headed as she was, simply couldn't handle being in one place for very long. And he knew from personal experience that the only thing quicker than her temper was the speed of her hand reaching for her gun.

She blasted the horn of the SUV at some unfortunate Volvo driver, slamming her hand so hard on the steering wheel Jane was surprised she hadn't broken it. They'd been stuck in traffic now for a quarter of an hour and Lisbon's tolerance was rapidly waning. Normally, he would take this opportunity to poke and prod at her, just because it was so much fun seeing her having to physically restrain herself from murdering him, but today she was a little stressed.

Though the senior agent had been praying for rain, winds, hurricanes, typhoons, anything to postpone the beginning of her and Jane's little undercover adventure, the day had dawned bright and cloudless. Just her luck. She hated this assignment already.

She wasn't sure what had been more mortifying, being "proposed" to in the middle of the office, the shock and disappointment on Minelli's face when he'd found them kissing, or how much she'd enjoyed that kiss. Luckily, Jane had been able to talk them both out of trouble, as she'd been so dazed she didn't think she'd have been able to string a sentence together if asked for her input in the conversation.

The half-hour between their conversation with Minelli and their 'suspensions' coming into effect had been punctuated by frequent visitors to her office, offering their congratulations on her impending nuptials. What had disturbed her the most had been the amount of people commenting that "they'd always known this was going to happen eventually" and that "the only ones who hadn't figured out you two were in love with each other were yourselves."

Either she and Jane had acted their parts more convincingly than they'd thought, or their colleagues had seen something the two of them hadn't. Either way, it was unsettling.

Jane of course had found it all very funny and had spent the time spreading stories around the office of their supposed whirlwind romance. Even when she'd practically begged him to stop, he'd just grinned at her in that infuriating way and told her to stop being such a killjoy and that she should be glad that their love was finally out in the open and they didn't have to hide it anymore.

Thank God she'd finally been able to explain to Cho the true nature of what was going on. She knew he'd been relieved to find out it was just an undercover op, for as he bluntly put it: "Van Pelt and Rigsby are bad enough. If I'd wanted to be surrounded by lovesick couples all day long, I'd have gotten a job at a matchmaking agency."

On the contrary, the other two had no idea of what was happening and so she and Jane found themselves confronted with a smug-looking Rigsby and an ecstatic Van Pelt. All sense of professionalism forgotten, the latter had thrown her arms around Lisbon in a tight hug witnessed with great amusement by Jane who had been having his hand shaken by Rigsby.

When she finally let go, Van Pelt had looked mortified at her sudden outpouring of emotion and darted away without another word. Mystified, Lisbon turned to Rigsby, who grinned.

"She's been waiting for you two to hook up ever since she joined the unit. What took you so long anyway?"

Lisbon opened her mouth, but Jane had beaten her to it.

"She took a little longer that expected to succumb to my charms. But now I've got her, I'm never letting her go." And he put his arm around her and gave her a little squeeze.

This was without question, the worst case ever.

To her embarrassment, instead of the quiet exit she had in mind, she'd left the CBI with Jane's hand at the small of her back, to more cheers and catcalls from the rest of the staff. One thing was clear. She could never show her face in the office again, at least not without a ring on her finger.

What a mess.

* * *

Finally the traffic began to move, forcing Lisbon to concentrate more on driving and less on being irritable. Jane sighed and shifted in his seat as they flew down the highway.

The CBI had offered to pay for flights to Los Angeles for them, but Lisbon had once again, put her foot down. She had flatly refused to have to get used to the handling of a new car for just two weeks and had told Minelli in no uncertain terms that she would be taking the team's Suburban. End of story.

Perhaps it was his partiality for Lisbon, or perhaps the simple desire not to piss her off any more than necessary, but Minelli had agreed. It felt strangely empty in the car with just the two of them and the two suitcases they had brought with them.

If they'd taken a plane they'd be there by now, he thought regretfully. Settling into their new home as a happily married couple instead of here with nothing to eat, drink, or look at except endless open road. Boring.

There was only thing left that he could do; spend a little quality bonding time with his new 'wife.'

"So, darling," he began, testing the word out. His darling. He liked the way it sounded. "Isn't this exciting, just the two of us, husband and wife, on the way to our new love nest?"

A low grumbling noise escaped from her as she flicked on the indicator to overtake another car, but she did not answer or give any sign that she had heard him.

"You know, if we're going to convince people we're newly married, you're going to have to at least look at me from time to time."

She sighed.

"Oh come on," he said presently. "Is it really so bad? We get two whole weeks of living the high life, bankrolled by the State. People wait their whole careers for stuff like this to come along."

"The CBI could set us up in a penthouse apartment with a personal wardrobe of designer clothes for me and it still wouldn't be enough to offset the mental anguish I'm about to endure by pretending to be your wife," she said.

"Stop being such a drama queen," he scolded her, teasingly. "I know you're secretly looking forward to it."

"The only thing I'm looking forward to," she said. "Is the day this is over and we can get fake divorced."

He grinned at her. "Two weeks can change a lot, Lisbon. Who knows, at the end of it you may have even-" he lowered his voice dramatically,"-enjoyed yourself."

"Hell will freeze over before I find anything enjoyable about being stuck in a house with you, and not even having a gun to threaten you with."

"I'm sure such a clever woman as yourself can think of thousands of more creative ways to make me fear for my life in the absence of firearms. You've just never really tried before. "

"I'll tell you what, if you don't shut your mouth and keep it shut until we get to L.A, I'm going to start right now," she said.

"Yes dear," he responded, good-naturedly and she scowled at him.

* * *

Lisbon considered it a great personal triumph when they pulled up in front of their house in L.A without having murdered her 'husband.' She was tired, she'd been driving for hours now and Jane had done his best to make the journey even more tedious. She imagined that this was how a preschool teacher felt while presiding over a fieldtrip, but she thought a busload of five-year-olds would have been much easier to tolerate than a bored Jane trapped in a car for hours on end.

"Check it out, honey," said Jane as he got out of the car. "Our new home. What wonderful family memories will we build here?"

Lisbon scowled. "Call me 'honey' again and I swear to God that your first family memory's going to involve me running you down with my car."

He grinned at her. "Spousal abuse is a crime you know…sweetheart."

She said nothing, and dragged their suitcases out of the car. She shut the car door as her cell-phone rang.

"Lisbon," she answered.

To her right, Jane clicked his tongue disapprovingly at her. "You're not Lisbon anymore, you're Rachel Hayne now. Better start wrapping your head around it."

Holding the phone between her shoulder and ear she turned towards him with blazing eyes. "Jane, I am this close-" She held up her thumb and forefinger which were almost touching."-to killing you right now. And I'd rather not have to serve a jail sentence just on your account."

He shook his head, grinning some more. "It's _Will_," he corrected her, with an air of long-suffering. "I know newlyweds are meant to have their heads in the clouds and all that but honestly Rach, knowing your husband's name is a pretty basic requirement. If you want this marriage to work, you're going to have to try a little harder."

"Jane, shut up!" she snapped.

"So I guess I won't ask how things are going?" came Minelli's voice out of the phone.

Lisbon ignored Jane's snicker as she turned her back on him.

"Hey boss," she said.

"You sound a little tense, Teresa."

'Well when I took this assignment I was under the impression I was going to be living with a husband, not a toddler." She heard Jane chuckle from behind her.

"Teresa, I would not have chosen you to do this if I didn't think you could handle it."

"You didn't choose me, you blackmailed me into it," she said, trying to keep the note of accusation out of her voice.

"I'm your boss, that's my right," he said smoothly. "Anyway, we've left some stuff for you on the kitchen bench. Make sure you get it, you'll need it."

"Is it a cyanide suicide pill?" asked Lisbon. "Because after a few days of this I'm going to need an emergency escape."

"I couldn't take the risk that you might slip it into Jane's food or something. I trust you, Lisbon but not that much."

"Thanks a lot boss."

"Keep in touch."

Lisbon shut the phone, grimacing.

* * *

She turned back around to face Jane again. It seemed that while she'd been on the phone he'd taken their suitcases inside and come back out to wait for her.

"Ready to go settle into our new place?" he asked.

"Can't I just sleep in the car?" she asked, wistfully.

"Don't be silly," he scolded her. "We're here to work remember, you need to get some proper sleep."

"Fine."

"Good girl. Now then…"

Lisbon let out a shriek of surprise as without warning, Jane swept her off her feet and into his arms.

"What the hell are you doing?" she said, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, which was surprisingly strong.

"Carrying my bride over the threshold of course," said Jane, in a tone that quite clearly meant 'Duh'.

"Jane. Put me down," she said in a tone of very forced calm. "Now."

"No can do," he said. "The neighbours could be watching, we've got to set the right tone."

As he carried her towards the front door she started punching every inch of him she could reach. He winced as the blows landed but didn't relinquish his grip.

"You know," he said conversationally as he kicked the door wider open. "I'll bet this violent streak of yours has frightened off many a lover in the past, but personally, I find it rather endearing. I always liked a woman with spunk." He winked at her. "Keeps things interesting."

He put her down just inside the doorway and closed the door behind them.

"If you so much as _think_ of doing that again," said Lisbon furiously. "Then I will-"

"Oh, stop pretending you didn't like it," said Jane, cutting her off.

Her mouth fell open and she planted her hands firmly on her hips. "What?" she demanded.

Jane rolled his eyes at her, but smirked all the same. She always looked so cute when she was incensed.

"You. Liked. It," he repeated slowly, knowing that speaking to her in that patronizing tone would piss her off even more.

"You cannot be serious."

"Lisbon I've seen you take out people more than twice your size. You're a lot stronger than I am. If you'd really wanted me to put you down, you would have made it happen," he said matter-of-factly.

She said nothing and he had a feeling that he'd stunned her into silence. He took advantage of that fact to dart past her into the hallway.

"I'm going to take a look around."

* * *

The house was small, but modern, and tastefully decorated. It was the kind of place you'd expect a high-powered corporate couple to live in as opposed to an extremely cranky state agent and her pain-in-the-ass consultant.

Jane found he didn't like it much. He thought it lacked character, as if had been put together exactly out of the plans from a magazine. Everything was in solid black or white, there were no splashes of colour anywhere. It felt more like a furniture showroom than a home.

Lisbon found she didn't much care about how the house looked. All she wanted to do was go to bed and hopefully stay asleep until this stupid assignment was over. She dragged her suitcase up the stairs and into the master bedroom. The bed looked soft and inviting and she was just preparing to collapse onto it when she heard Jane calling her name softly from the kitchen.

"What is it Jane?" she asked grumpily when she reached him. Predictably he was already nursing a cup of tea and she noticed with grateful surprise that he'd brewed her a coffee as well.

"Thanks,' she said as he handed it her.

"You looked like you needed it," he said.

"You have no idea."

He smiled at her and pointed to an envelope he hadn't noticed before lying on the kitchen bench. "You might want to open that."

She picked it up and saw it was addressed "To the Happy Couple." It was times like this that she really didn't appreciate Minelli's sense of humour. Vowing to say something to him about it the moment she got back, she ripped it open.

Inside was information about known members of the cocaine ring they were about to try and infiltrate.

"So when do we get started with all this?" asked Jane as they perused the files.

"Tomorrow," said Lisbon firmly. The sooner they got this done, the sooner this weird fake-marriage nonsense would be over and she could go back to her peaceful apartment…totally alone.

"And how exactly do we do it?" asked Jane.

She waved a piece of paper at him.

"CBI's given us a list of places where these people hang out. We'll head over there and you can turn on the old charm and hopefully, we'll be in."

"Thanks, Lisbon," said Jane, grinning.

"For what?"

"Admitting that you find me charming. I always knew, of course, but it's good to hear you say so all the same. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

She reached over and swatted him with the envelope.

"Ow!" he said, clutching his arm where she'd hit it. "That hurt!"

"For Christ's sake, grow a set," she said impatiently. "It was just paper."

"Was not. And you shouldn't be taking the Lord's name in vain."

Sighing, she upended the envelope and to her great surprise heard the clinking of metal against the bench.

* * *

"What is it?" asked Jane.

Lisbon couldn't suppress a gasp. "They're wedding rings," she said, holding them up to show him.

There was a tense silence. They had both forgotten about this part.

"I can't" said Jane, twisting his real wedding ring around and around his finger.

"You have to," said Lisbon, but not without sympathy. She knew how hard it must be for him. "Our rings have to match or it'll look suspicious."

"I know," he said. "But-"

"I understand," she said, gently. "I really do, but if you don't do this we may as well abandon the whole thing now."

"I'm sorry," he said, "And I'll take all the blame, I promise."

"We're not throwing in the towel," said Lisbon, still gentle but with a definite edge to her voice now. "We have to come to some sort of compromise."

"Like what?" asked Jane, doubtful that even the great Teresa Lisbon could pull a solution out of her bag of tricks this time.

Lisbon thought for a moment and then reached up behind her head and unclasped her crucifix. She slipped the cross pendant from the chain and put it in her pocket. She held the chain out to him.

"Here, put your ring on this. That way you can still wear it."

Jane hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"This is how compromise works, Jane," she said. "I give a little, you give a little."

Jane mentally took back his earlier thought. Once again, she'd managed to fix everything. He really didn't know how she did it.

He took the chain from her, letting his hand linger on hers for a moment.

"Thank you Lisbon,"

"Don't mention it."

"Really," he said. "Thank you."

* * *

Once the ring was safely around his neck, the other two rings could be ignored no longer.

"Shall we have a little ceremony?" he asked and Lisbon scowled at him.

"Don't push your luck," she said snatching up the closest one and jamming it on her finger. Jane followed suit. The new ring felt unnatural on his hand. The shape and size were all wrong and he had to resist the temptation to rip it off again.

After a moment, they both looked down at their ringed hands. Somehow this made it all seem more real, they were committed to this now. The thought was frightening.

"So, do I get a kiss now?" he asked, partly to break the awkward moment.

"Hell no," said Lisbon, shortly.

"Come on," he wheedled. "You wouldn't give me a wedding but you can at least let me have this. Anyway, what's the big deal, you've already done it once."

"That was different," she protested. "I didn't have a choice."

"So reluctant," he said smirking. "And why is that my dear? Scared you'll like it?"

"No," she said, far too quickly.

"I know you did last time."

"Did not!"

"Did too."

"Did not!"

Jane knew from experience that allowing himself to be drawn into an argument with Lisbon meant he would be facing hours and hours worth of bickering going round and round in circles until they were both so irritated with each other that they couldn't even be in the same room anymore. So he decided to settle the disagreement as quickly and simply as possible.

He took her hand.

"And furthermore you need to learn-" Lisbon cut herself off in mid-rant as she realized what was happening. "What the hell are you doing?"

"This, my beautiful wife is me embracing the noble art of the compromise," he said. "You give a little-" He gestured to her hand he still held in his. "-I give a little." He brought it to his lips and kissed it.

To Lisbon's great annoyance, her body responded with a shiver that she was sure he had felt. Indeed, when he finally let her hand, go it was with an air of satisfaction too great for her liking.

She wrenched her hand out of his grasp,

"I'm hungry," she said.

He laughed. "Well the kitchen's fully stocked, why don't I whip us up something?"

"You can cook?" she asked dubiously.

"Wait and see."

"Whatever," she said. "I'll be upstairs unpacking. And while I'm at it I'll call Poison Control. Courtesy heads-up and all."

She left the kitchen and he heard her stomping her way up the stairs.

"Let you know when it's ready, hon," Jane called after her. A pause. "Love you!" he tacked on the end.

Upstairs, a door slammed.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it. If you didn't please let me know so I can quit while I'm ahead.**

**P.S Any of you who read 'Puppeteer' I am working hard on it and I hope to get it posted soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Rating and pairing you should now by now.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it.**

* * *

After experiencing less than one day of 'wedded bliss' Lisbon wondered why anyone would ever want to throw themselves headlong into moving in with someone.

Perhaps it was a side-effect of playing mother to three young boys so early in life but Lisbon had come to greatly value and appreciate her alone time, and having it abruptly torn asunder by this new state of cohabitation just wasn't working for her.

There was no one major issue that was making this assignment so unpleasant, rather a series of disruptions to her usual routine and, being by her own admission, a little set in her ways, it was enough to tick her off.

For example, Lisbon was accustomed to sleeping late when she didn't have to work whereas Jane, (if he had even slept at all which she was unaware of since he'd elected to settle on the downstairs couch) seemed to like to rise with the sun. Suffice it to say, she was not impressed the next morning when she was roused from sleep by banging and clattering coming from downstairs.

Grumbling to herself, she reluctantly rose from the comfortable bed with the intention of walking downstairs to give Jane a piece of her mind about what was an appropriate time to wake up and what wasn't.

She glanced into the mirror as she passed and was very glad she had. It wasn't like she was trying to impress anyone, it was just Jane after all, but still as a woman, she had standards.

She grabbed up her hairbrush and managed to pull it through the mess of tangles that her hair had become during the night. She tied it into a low ponytail and changed out of her pyjamas into jeans and a sweatshirt.

She took another glance in the mirror and was satisfied that she looked more like herself and less like some wild animal caught in a windstorm.

* * *

Jane beamed at her as she entered the kitchen.

"Good morning, wife. You're up early."

"I had no chance of sleeping in with the racket you were making," Lisbon complained. "What are you doing in here, composing a symphony with kitchenware?"

"In a sense," he said. "But rather than a melody I am composing a culinary masterpiece. Trust me, you'll be surprised."

"I don't doubt that," she said. "But I don't know how many surprises I can handle at the crack of dawn and with no coffee in sight."

"Cheer up, grumpy," said Jane, nodding towards the kettle. "Your morning shot of caffeine is on its way."

"Good," she said, sitting down at the kitchen table.

Jane, it transpired, knew his way around a kitchen. She watched him dart between the cupboard and the stove adding bits of this and that to the pan. The kettle reached the boil and she got up to pour out the water.

She fixed herself a cup of coffee and then absent-mindedly reached for another mug to make Jane some tea. Milk in first, water truly boiling, just like at the office.

Jane smirked to himself as he looked over his shoulder and saw her stirring the tea. She was the only person on the planet he would entrust with making his tea for him. Nobody else seemed to be able to master the exact process involved in making his tea exactly the way he liked it. He couldn't understand why. It wasn't that complicated after all. He remembered Rigsby's disastrous attempt that time he'd been blind and then Grace's attempt a few weeks later. He'd given perfectly clear instructions; they just weren't trying hard enough.

Lisbon brought the cup over to him at the stove.

"So," she said, returning to the table. "Does it pass the stringent Patrick Jane quality standards?"

He took a sip.

"Spot on," he said. "Now…breakfast. Tonight we're going into the depths of the L.A social scene, you're going to need your strength."

He turned around with plates of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast and set one down in front of her.

"I have to say, I'm a little underwhelmed. All that banging and carrying on and all I get is this?" said Lisbon, testily.

"I bet you were expecting something gourmet," said Jane, gesturing towards the plate and grinning cheekily at her. "Hence, the surprise."

Lisbon felt the sudden urge to laugh and somehow managed to hide it by shovelling in a large forkful of eggs.

Pain in the ass he might be, but at least being around Jane was never boring. He certainly was full of surprises.

* * *

"You know," she said a few minutes later, after swallowing a piece of bacon. "I never picked you for the domestic type."

He half-smiled. "I never used to be," he said. "When my wife and I moved in together she told me that over her dead body was she going to be the one slaving over a hot stove every night. She said that if I was the one who was going to bring home the bacon, I'd better learn how to cook it as well."

Lisbon was shocked at this unexpected snippet of personal information from Jane. Usually he played his cards very close to his chest when it came to discussing his past, but Lisbon couldn't pretend she wasn't curious. It was like her consultant had this whole other life that he kept separate from his current one, and she wanted to know about the kind of person he'd been back then, before all his heartache. How was wife-and-daughter Jane different from Jane today? Could he ever go back to that? Did even he want to?

Surely he must. He couldn't go on being miserable forever, it would destroy him and she had a feeling it would destroy her too. He was part of her team, one of the few people she could call a friend, and she'd been watching the strain of it all taking its toll on him for years now. Nobody should have to suffer as much as he had.

"What was she like?" Lisbon asked, cautiously.

Jane pondered how to answer the question honestly without revealing too much. He wanted Lisbon understand him better but he couldn't risk letting her in too far, it would make things too complicated. He fingered the ring on the chain around his neck.

"She was a bit like you," he said finally. "Feisty, with an extremely low tolerance for bullshit." He paused, and smiled reminiscently. "She'd have liked you."

"You think?"

"Oh yes. She was forever telling me that I needed to get some more sensible friends who weren't blinded by my abilities to stop my head from getting too big. Someone brave enough to tell me exactly where the line was, and pull me up when I stepped over it. I didn't think such a person existed until I met you."

Lisbon flushed with pleasure, and Jane lapsed into silence. It seemed he was finished sharing for the day and she knew better than to push for more details. She was surprised he trusted her enough to even tell her that much. It meant more to her than she would ever tell him, but from the way he smiled at her as she got up to clear the table, she thought he might have guessed.

With Jane, you could never be sure.

* * *

The doorbell rang, and the two of them exchanged bewildered looks.

"Did you order something?" she asked Jane.

He shook his head. "Are you so averse to holidays that you're getting some excess paperwork couriered over? Because I wouldn't put it past you."

Lisbon snorted. Jane was being ridiculous. She was not averse to taking vacations; she just preferred to enjoy them sparingly. Very sparingly. There was nothing wrong with that. And the catching up with paperwork thing didn't sound like such a bad idea either. Maybe she _should_ call Minelli and have him send some. She might even get ahead for a change. The thought made her smile.

"That wasn't a suggestion Lisbon," said Jane, giving the impression as he so often did, that he was reading her mind. "Come on, this isn't even a real vacation, it's undercover work."

The doorbell rang again.

"Don't you think you should get that?" asked Jane and she scowled at him as she pulled the door open.

On the step stood a young woman with blonde hair in spiral curls. She smiled at Lisbon as she pulled the door wider.

"Hi!" she said, at such a decibel that Lisbon feared the glass in the door might break. "I'm Annabelle Beckett. I live next door." She pointed unnecessarily at the house beside theirs. Lisbon was sorely tempted to ask whether she'd been born with that uncanny gift for direction, but restrained herself with difficulty. Getting the locals offside was hardly the ideal way to begin this assignment.

"How nice," she said instead, hating how insipid she sounded. "I'm Rachel Hayne." She held out a hand to Annabelle who shook it enthusiastically with both of her own.

"It's nice to meet you Rachel. I am sort of the social coordinator around here and I thought I should take this opportunity to welcome you to the neighbourhood."

"Thanks," said Lisbon uncomfortably. This woman gave off an unmistakeable air of fakeness as though everything she said had been rehearsed a million times in the mirror before she said it. She even looked fake with her blond hair, blue eyes and designer couture from head to toe. She was a living testament to the L.A stereotype.

Annabelle's smile had not faltered during Lisbon's silence. If anything, it seemed to have gained in intensity as though it drew power from other people's discomfort. "So what brings you to L.A?" she asked.

Lisbon answered with the first thing that popped into her head. "Work," She'd give anything to be in her office right now, with the door locked to counteract surprise visits from Jane, rather than here trying to remember how to negotiate normal social interactions. It had been a while.

"Ah yes," said Annabelle, nodding solemnly, like this information was of the greatest importance. "And what is that you do?"

Lisbon's brain stalled. She hadn't given a moment's thought to what she'd say if someone asked her about what she did for a living.

Her hesitation went unnoticed however, in fact it seemed Annabelle had lost track of the conversation completely. She was looking at something over Lisbon's shoulder, totally distracted. Lisbon immediately recognized the symptoms of a person unexpectedly confronted with the appearance of Patrick Jane. How many times had she seen it in cops, crime scene techs, lawyers, witnesses, suspects, ADAs, court staff, and even once a judge? The last had been particularly useful as it happened the judge in question had been presiding over their case that day. While Lisbon wouldn't go far as to say the judge had ruled in their favour purely for that reason, she suspected that Jane's presence in the courtroom hadn't hurt their chances. That had been a nice change.

"Hey," he greeted Lisbon easily, appearing at her side. "Who's this?" He put on his most charming smile for Annabelle and Lisbon discreetly elbowed him in the stomach, muttering "Show-off" out of the corner of her mouth.

"You love it," he hissed back.

All of a sudden, Annabelle seemed to regain the power of speech.

"You didn't tell me you had a family!" she shrieked half-hysterically, half-resentfully.

"You didn't ask," said Lisbon. "This is my-" Try as she might, she couldn't quite bring herself to say the word 'husband.' "-This is Will," she amended, "And Will, this is Annabelle, our new neighbour."

"It's a pleasure," said Jane, shaking Annabelle's hand, who let out a shrill giggle more appropriate to a pre-teen schoolgirl than a grown woman. "I take it that you're the go-to girl around here."

"Well, yes," she answered, beaming at him. "How did you know?"

"Well you've been the first to come by and introduce yourself. I just guessed."

"You're a good guesser," Annabelle simpered.

Lisbon had had about as much she could take of this nauseating display. Being friendly to people was one thing, but openly flirting with another woman's husband? That was not on. Never mind the fact that they weren't actually married, it was the principle of the thing. The last thing they needed was more complications; she was going to put this little infatuation to rest, once and for all. She didn't know what made her do it, but she reached out and grabbed Jane's hand, locking their fingers together.

"Shouldn't we go and finish unpacking, honey?' she said.

The effect was instantaneous. Annabelle's face fell faster than a stone, and Jane turned to look at her as though she'd just suggested they take a day trip to the planet Saturn.

"We don't mean to be rude," she said to Annabelle, forcing herself to keep the triumphant smile off her face. "But the place is still such a mess."

"No worries," trilled Annabelle, recovering faster then Lisbon would've liked. "I have to go anyway, I'm throwing a party tonight and I have to call the caterers. Hey, why don't you guys come along?" she suggested, with a glowing smile that Lisbon noticed was directly aimed at Jane. "You'd be very welcome and it'll be a good way for you to get introduced to everybody."

"We'd love to," said Jane, without missing a beat.

"Great! I'll call the security company and have them add your names to the list. It's starts at seven, dress is smart casual. See you later!"

Waving at them, she turned and walked back to her own house.

Lisbon glared after her until she disappeared, and then slammed the door shut in irritation.

* * *

"She really got under your skin, didn't she?" said Jane, smirking at her.

"No," said Lisbon, stubbornly.

"Right. So you're conveying your complete and total indifference by trying to break my hand. Makes sense."

She'd been focusing so hard on sending non-verbal "back off!" messages to Annabelle, that Lisbon hadn't even noticed how hard she'd been gripping Jane's hand. Embarrassed, she immediately let it go.

"Thank you," he said, inspecting his hand and flexing his fingers. "Now would you please drive me to the emergency room? I think I'm going to need reconstructive surgery; it feels like you've broken it."

"Enough smartass remarks, funny man, or the next thing I'll break will be your jaw."

"Duly noted. But am I permitted to ask a question?"

"No."

"Excellent," he said, ploughing on anyway, as she'd known he would. "How come you're allowed to call me 'honey' but when I say it to you, I get threatened with grievous bodily harm? Seems like a bit of a double standard to me."

She remained silent, hoping that if she didn't answer, he'd let the subject drop. No such luck.

"You want to know what I think?" he asked.

She really, really didn't, but she had a feeling that she was about to hear it whether she liked it or not.

"I think," he went on. "You were feeling a little threatened by our new friend Annabelle. I think it made you upset that she liked me so much, and you wanted to nip that in the bud."

"And what exactly are you implying?" she asked him.

"I am implying, my dear that the green-eyed monster came out to play."

"Don't be such an idiot!" she snapped at him. "I was just trying to sell this stupid husband-and-wife thing. This assignment relies on us being believable as a couple!"

"And you think part of that is staring people down like an angry lioness?" asked Jane shrewdly. "Come on I could practically feel the sizzling waves of hatred coming off you while I was talking to her."

"Well how do we know she's not involved in the drug ring?" asked Lisbon, defensively. "We need to stay alert."

"Yes, but if she is involved," said Jane patiently. "Don't you think your less-than-friendly demeanour might tip her off that we're onto her?"

It always made her day so much worse when she had to concede that her consultant might be right about something, It was like a giant slap in the face for her and all she stood for, that sometimes doing things properly and by-the-book simply wasn't the way to go and that deviating from the rules a little could actually be the most practical course. Most days she resented it, sometimes even fought him on it just for the hell of venting her frustrations, but today, if it meant they could get off the topic of her supposed 'jealousy,' she'd take it.

"Fine," she said. "I'll take it down a notch."

He grinned at her.

"You come across a little full-on at times. It can be confronting for some people who aren't used to it." He began to walk away back down the hall.

"Oh," he added, pausing. "Just in case my hunch was correct and you are a tiny bit jealous, you should be assured, my wife, that I only have eyes for you." He winked at her, and disappeared around the corner.

* * *

He hadn't lied to her just then; Lisbon had been practically the only woman of consequence to him for longer than he cared to admit. It was widely acknowledged in the CBI that the two female agents of Serious Crimes weren't half bad to look at, and so there was no shortage of men finding excuses to make detours through the bullpen (especially rookies) to catch a glimpse of them. For a long time, Jane had observed this and simply laughed, but things had been changing over the last few months or so.

At some point, he found that his eyes wandered to Lisbon's office a lot more than strictly necessary and that watching her perform even the most mundane of activities was an excellent form of entertainment. He had started taking note of who went in and out of her office and kept tabs on the single men that did so most frequently. He had even become slightly passive-aggressive towards people that he had known for years, and liked, because he'd caught them checking her out over the top of a file.

It had taken him a while to actually acknowledge what he was doing and at first, he attributed it to natural, brotherly feelings attained over their years of working together. He had accepted that this couldn't be so when he realized that he had no such protective feelings towards Grace, quite happy to lie back chuckling as Rigsby tried to restrain himself from dismembering whoever was hitting on the pretty redhead that day.

But when it came to Lisbon. it was a different story. When the woman _he_ cared for had been the target of these advances, suddenly it wasn't so funny, and he showed it. Eventually, the other agents had got the message. As far as anyone but Patrick Jane was concerned, Teresa Lisbon was off the market. Period.

He didn't remember being this way with his wife. When walking down the street with her if he noticed men passing by gave her a once-over he would smile, proud that he had gotten what so many others wanted, that he had been the one she had chosen. It gave him a little boost to his ego.

But with Lisbon, he couldn't be sure of anything, least of all her feelings, so rather than being regarded as amusing idiots, these men had to be considered as potential rivals. So easily could someone else reach out and take what he had been pretentious enough to claim as his own.

The little display at the door just now gave him a chance to hope like he'd never hoped before. Whatever she said, she had been jealous. He should know; he'd been brimming with it for ages whenever anyone else so much as looked at her. Was there some possibility that the two of them could create something real out of this farce? There was a spark between them, he'd felt it when they kissed and he was sure she had too. Was that all there would ever be, or could the spark be nurtured into a flame?

He would just have to wait and see what the next couple of weeks held in store.

**A little shorter than the others, but I'm pleased with it. This chapter was written in a hotel room, on an aeroplane, and in a shuttle bus on the way home from my holiday, forgive me for any errors.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sometimes it feels like this story is writing itself, but I won't be able to update as regularly anymore. As of tomorrow, I am back at work and I also need to put some time into 'Puppeteer', which has totally fallen by the wayside as this story has started taking shape.**

**Thanks for the reviews I've been receiving! If it weren't for them, this story would never have become a multichip!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable in this story.**

* * *

When it came to packing for out-of-town work trips, Lisbon believed in travelling lightly and efficiently. After years of cases that had taken her from the top of the state of California to the bottom and countless points in between, she had developed a streamlined system of carrying only the bare essentials. She had mastered the art of fitting two pairs of black pants, three tops, underwear and toiletries into a bag small enough to be taken as carry-on in an airport. So far, this system had been sufficient for her to be prepared for whatever the case had demanded.

But today, for the first time on record, her foolproof plan had failed her. Even though she'd brought a slightly bigger suitcase than usual and had been able to fit more in, not a single piece of clothing she owned was appropriate for the party tonight.

Her clothes, while practical and comfortable, would hardly endear her to the impeccably dressed people of the L.A social set, and the whole point of being undercover was to blend in. This party was a chance for herself and Jane to see for themselves the way things worked around here, make acquaintances, and really start working towards their goal. But if they wanted this to work, they had to look the part.

Lisbon had never been the girly-girl type and so it simply hadn't occurred to her to throw in a slightly dressier outfit, just in case. It seemed so stupid now.

What was she going to do? She and Jane were expected over at Annabelle's any minute, and she was nowhere near ready.

She heard the sounds of him walking up the stairs and after a minute, he called through the closed door of the bedroom.

"Ready to go?"

"Not quite," she said, hoping she sounded less panicked than she felt. Apparently not, if Jane's resulting chuckle was anything to go by.

Though separated from her by a heavy wooden door, Jane could picture Lisbon in his mind's eye, pacing anxiously up and down the room, getting more irritated with every passing moment.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here, and assume that you have nothing to wear. Would I be correct?" he asked.

Silence from the other side of the door. He gathered that meant 'yes.'

"Check the closet," he said, and headed back downstairs to wait.

Once his footsteps had faded away, she went to the closet and slid the door back. She gasped when she saw what was inside.

Unbeknownst to Lisbon, the clothes in the closet had been a clause to the plan agreed upon by Jane and Minelli in a brief chat when Lisbon had not been present. Jane, to whom this turn of events had hardly been unexpected, had managed to convince their superior that it might be a wise move to invest a few hundred bucks of CBI money into providing clothing for just such a situation as this.

She flicked through the garments, eventually stopping at one halfway through the row. She had no time for doubts about it, she had to just put it on and hope for the best.

* * *

Downstairs, Jane watched as the clock ticked past seven. They were now running late, and she hadn't shown any signs of being ready anytime soon. It seemed even Teresa Lisbon wasn't totally immune to the female trait of taking forever to get ready before a night out. His wife had been the same. Whenever they had been invited somewhere he had always told her the function started an hour before it actually did, so she could fuss all she wanted, and then they might have some hope of arriving at a reasonable time.

"Lisbon?" he called up the stairs.

He heard footsteps up above and saw the light on the landing turn off.

"You know, there's a difference between being fashionably late and just plain late," he said. "We're not exactly going to be making the best impression…"

He trailed off as she descended the staircase. Whoever of the rookie agents had been dispatched to do the shopping for this case, he wanted to shake their hand. The dress was black with a halter neck that showed off her shoulders, the skirt fell just above her knees and it fit her like a glove. She couldn't have put a feather underneath that dress without it showing. She was also wearing matching black stiletto heels.

His mouth felt dry as he watched her carefully negotiate the last few steps. He'd always known she was a very attractive woman, but he'd never wanted her as badly as he did right now. The hell with the party, the hell with the case, and the hell with the CBI; if it were up to him they wouldn't be going anywhere, except maybe back upstairs to the bedroom.

"I hate these shoes," Lisbon complained when she reached him, seemingly not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

He found his voice. "Shall we get going?"

"Just a second, I need my cell phone. I left it in the kitchen."

As she walked past him, he took the time to appreciate the way the fabric of the dress clung to her body as she moved. She returned a moment later, cell phone in hand.

"Let's get this over with,' she said, sighing, and lead the way out the front door. Jane followed her, wondering if she had always swung her hips in that tantalising way when she walked, and if so, why the hell hadn't he noticed it before?

Lisbon picked her way down the front yard footpath self-consciously. Ever since she'd come down the stairs, she'd been able to feel Jane's eyes on her. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. One the one hand, she was pleased that he appreciated all the hard work that had gone into getting ready, and what woman didn't get a little confidence boost by being ogled by a very handsome man like Jane? On the other hand, she knew she shouldn't be so happy at the prospect that he might find her attractive. It would only complicate things.

* * *

When they reached Annabelle's house, Jane forced himself with extreme difficulty, to stop gawking at Lisbon in her little black dress, and concentrate on the task at hand.

"You ready?" he asked her, hand poised to knock.

"No. Are you?"

"Not particularly."

He knocked, and instantly, the door was thrown open.

"You're here!" squealed Annabelle, who was clutching a crystal glass filled with champagne. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to turn up!"

Jane smiled at her. "There's nowhere else we'd rather be."

Annabelle giggled, blushing, and Lisbon rolled her eyes. As it happened, she could think of a whole lot of places she'd rather be: work, home, her favourite bar in Sacramento, yoga class, the bottom of the ocean…

"Oh Will," said Annabelle. "You're such a charmer! Rachel, you are one lucky woman."

"He's certainly one of a kind," said Lisbon.

"That he is," said Annabelle warmly, beaming at him and Lisbon felt the same frustration with her as she had this afternoon. Where did this woman get off, putting the moves on married men? As far as she knew, a ring on the finger meant strictly off-limits as far as flirting was concerned, but obviously Annabelle hadn't got the memo.

As her dislike of their hostess flared, Lisbon was shocked to realize that this wasn't the first time she'd gotten annoyed when another woman had tried it on with her consultant. She'd gotten the same sick feeling in her stomach, and the same sudden urge to reach over and slap Annabelle one. It had been easier to control when they working, as there was other stuff to take her mind off it, but now with nothing else to focus on, she could feel it building inside of her.

All this indignation over Annabelle's disregard for marriage vows, could it really stem from the simple fact that she was after _Jane_? If it had been anyone else, would Lisbon be quite this upset? She couldn't actually be jealous could she? She searched for another reason for her animosity towards Annabelle, anything at all.

"I love your dress, Rachel. I had one just like it _a few years ago_."

Her tone was pleasant, but the implication was clear. Lisbon seized on the excuse to hate her with great enthusiasm. Now she could pretend to Jane and more importantly, to herself, that her dislike of Annabelle wasn't that she was trying to steal Jane from her, and instead it was because the woman was simply a bitch.

The thought was heartening, and she felt herself smile. To her satisfaction, the action seemed to throw Annabelle, who had evidently expected her to be insulted by the remark and so quickly changed the subject.

"Well come in, come in, both of you. There are so many people I want you to meet." She stood back to allow them to pass and then they followed her through the house out to the garden, where people were milling around with drinks in their hands, chatting to one another or dancing under a small gazebo where a band was playing.

* * *

Parties sure had changed since Lisbon had last been to one. She was more accustomed to the type with loud music, plastic cups, and tequila shots, not that she'd had time to go to many as a teenager, as she'd been so busy. But every now and then she'd arrange for someone else to babysit her brothers and have a night out, with the two friends she'd had. For a few precious hours, she'd been allowed to forget about groceries, and gas bills and appointments with Tommy's school principal and guidance counsellor because he'd got himself into another fight and just enjoy her adolescence.

"Would anyone like a drink?" asked Annabelle.

"Sounds great," said Lisbon sweetly. "And how about you, honey?"

Jane smirked. "Love one."

"So do you feel like wandering over to the bar and getting us some?" asked Lisbon, keeping her eyes on her consultant, effectively shutting Annabelle of the conversation.

"Anything for you, my dear," he said and walked off, brushing past Lisbon as he did so. She felt goose bumps rise up on her arm.

* * *

"Come on," said Annabelle, a lot less pleasantly now that Jane was out of earshot. "I'll introduce you to some people." She stalked away, not checking to see whether Lisbon was following or not and eventually stopped in front of a group of three women sitting at a table.

"Ladies, this is Rachel my new neighbour. Rachel this is Lauren, Phoebe and Heidi. I'll leave you guys to get better acquainted."

She left.

The three women all smiled politely at Lisbon who nervously returned it, and they spent the next few minutes making uncomfortable small talk. Lisbon marvelled at the way all three women seemed to share one mind, answering questions in unison and agreeing with whatever each other said.

For the love of God, she needed a drink.

Thankfully, her prayer was answered almost immediately, when she spotted a head of blonde curls weaving its way towards her through the crowd. Jane appeared from the midst of it all with two glasses of champagne.

"There you are!" he exclaimed as he walked to the table they were all sitting at. "I've been looking all over for you." He handed her a glass.

"Why didn't you just ask Annabelle?" she hissed. "I'm sure she would have told you anything you wanted to know."

"Who are your new friends?" he asked, ignoring the previous question.

The one in the middle of the group (Heidi, as it turned out) took it upon herself to introduce herself and her companions, for which Lisbon was grateful as she'd forgotten which one was which the minute she'd sat down.

After the hand shaking and the standard enquiries about how he was liking the new house and so forth, Jane reached over and squeezed Lisbon's shoulder.

"I'm going to go talk to some guys I met at the bar," he said. "OK, baby?"

"Want me to come with?" she offered, eager for a reason to get away from the human female version of Huey, Duey, and Louie.

"No that's all right," he said. "Stay here and keep chatting."

Obviously, he wasn't getting the message.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked him. "In private?" she added as the Siamese triplets leaned forward with interest.

* * *

They walked away from the table to a seat in a secluded corner of the garden.

"What's up?" he asked, as they sat down on it.

"I can't do this," said Lisbon, flatly.

"Define _this_."

"This!" she said sweeping a hand around to indicate the entire garden. "Garden parties, and crystal glasses, and talking to people about stuff I don't even care about…"

"It's our job," he interrupted her.

"No it's not!" she snapped. "My job is going to crime scenes, and talking to witnesses, and paperwork, and keeping you in line, and giving evidence in court, and locking up bad guys!"

"Which is what we're doing," said Jane, calmly. "We're going to help get all that cocaine off the streets and throw all the people responsible in jail. What we're doing is important, Lisbon. Don't forget that."

"Since when are you so logical and righteous?" she said, angrily.

"Since my normally calm, rational boss decided to have a brain snap in the middle of a garden party," he deadpanned.

She took a deep breath and felt herself begin to calm.

"You're right," she said slowly. "I'm sorry."

He grinned at her. "Admitting that I'm right _and_ an apology? In the _same_ sentence? Would I be able to get that in writing?"

In spite of herself, she laughed. He joined in.

"I'm out of my depth here," she said a few minutes later.

"Me too."

"But you're so good at all this stuff," she said.

"I had lots of practice in my old psychic days. Spinning crap becomes second nature if you do it enough" he said airily. "Doesn't mean I like it though. Makes me feel like a fraud all over again."

They sat a few minutes more, finishing off their champagne. It was peaceful with just the two of them and the moon above and the sounds of the party in the background. One might even go so far as to call it romantic, if the two people involved were romantically inclined towards each other.

Well, one was. The other wasn't so sure.

* * *

"We should get back," said Lisbon reluctantly. "God knows what they'll think we've been doing all this time."

Jane smirked, and winked at her. "I'm up for it if you are."

"Yeah, right," she said, smiling too.

"They're going to think we did anyway," said Jane. "Why put up with all the ridicule when we didn't even get to have the fun?"

"How is it you can go from being almost a gentleman to a total jerk in less than three seconds?" asked Lisbon.

"Split personalities," said Jane.

"You know," said Lisbon, getting up from the seat. "That would explain a lot."

They walked together back towards the lights and music of the party.

"You should dress up more often," said Jane, looking over at her in the moonlight.

"Sure. Next time we're serving a warrant I'll just make everyone wait while I nip into a ball gown and glass slippers, and instead of my gun I'll carry a magic wand," came the snippy answer.

"You know what I mean," said Jane. "Finish work at a decent hour and go out every once in a while. It'll be good for you."

"What are you, my therapist?"

"Nope, just a concerned citizen. You're denying the men of Sacramento a huge treat, my dear. Look at you tonight, you're a knockout."

But the men of Sacramento had best keep their hands off her if they knew what was good for them, he thought to himself. Patrick Jane didn't have much left worth fighting for, but what he did have, he aimed to keep.

She blushed. "Thanks."

* * *

"Will!" came the squeal from across the garden, and their peaceful moment was shattered. Annabelle came hurtling towards them, quite an impressive feat in the six-inch Manolo Blahniks she was wearing. Lisbon wished hard for her to fall flat on her face.

"Where have you been?" she asked him, ignoring Lisbon completely.

"We were just taking a walk," he said.

"Well come on," said Annabelle. "You owe me a dance!"

"As long as it's not the horizontal kind," said Lisbon, but under her breath so nobody could hear her.

"You don't mind if I steal your husband for a little while, do you Rachel?" asked Annabelle with a very forced smile. "I promise to bring him back."

"Not at all," said Lisbon, through gritted teeth. "Have fun."

Jane leant over and whispered in her ear. "Score one for you. See you later."

And he followed Annabelle over to the gazebo.

* * *

Lisbon walked over to the bar.

"Champagne please," she requested.

"Champagne?" came a voice from behind her. "You sound like you need something a lot stronger then that."

Lisbon turned around to see a young woman sitting at a table, with light brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

"What would you suggest?" she asked.

"Tequila," said the woman. "And lots of it. It's the only thing that gets me through these parties."

"So you've figured out the secret?" asked Lisbon.

"Not really, but I can tell right away that you don't belong here."

"How?" said Lisbon, a little defensively.

"Well you look like you possess more than one brain cell. That puts you way ahead of the curve."

Lisbon smiled. She liked this woman already.

"I'm Rachel," she said.

"Megan, but everyone just calls me Meg."

"Nice to meet you." And this time, Lisbon meant it. "How about that tequila?"

Meg grinned. "Now you're talking my language!"

* * *

Out on the dance floor, Jane sighed with relief as the song they were dancing to finally finished. It turned out that when people stepped on your toes in Manolos, it really, _really_ hurt.

"You're a good dancer, Will."

"Thank you."

The band struck up a new song; a much slower one and he quickly extricated himself from Annabelle's grip before things got any weirder.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Thanks for the dance Annabelle," he said, just to be polite. "But I think I owe the next one to my wife."

He left her in the middle of the gazebo looking very disappointed.

Jane found Lisbon at a table near the bar and was surprised to find that she was smiling. Truly, genuinely smiling, the kind he loved to see on her face.

"Hey," he said as he came up behind her.

"Oh who's this, and where do I get one?" asked the woman sitting next to her.

Introductions were made, and then Jane looked down at Lisbon.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked. "The only way I could get Annabelle to leave me alone was by saying I was dancing with you."

"Fine," she said. "But why didn't you just tell her you didn't want to dance anymore?"

He shrugged. "I'm a coward. You're the brave one in this marriage."

"And don't you forget it," she said, getting up.

"As if I ever could."

* * *

**I hope you liked this one. I wanted to do a little Jisbon fluff, coz I love it so. I hope nobody was OOC. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Good news! Since my other story is all wrapped up I will now be able to put more time into this story, which is great as now the updates shouldn't take quite as long.**

**Since the season premiere isn't until next Sunday, I thought I'd try and soothe my Mentalist withdrawals by writing a new chapter. Seems to have helped.**

**Disclaimer: On my wage, I can't even afford a decent car, let alone the rights to The Mentalist or anything else recognisable. **

**Let's kick things off with a lovely dance from our favourite duo…**

**

* * *

**

She'd rather be ripped apart by ravenous dogs than admit it to him, but Lisbon thought that dancing with Jane was a rather pleasant experience. With these shoes on, she was exactly the right height for him, and he was a good enough dancer that he was able to steer them around the floor without her embarrassing herself.

She also quite enjoyed the resentful looks from the other women around the place. As a teenager, she'd never been the girl with the gorgeous boyfriend that everyone else wanted, but now it was kind of fun to have something over all the rich bitches here. Money couldn't buy you everything.

"Annabelle's watching us," said Jane quietly with a trace of a laugh. "She's looking at you like she wants to incinerate you with just her eyes. Here, look."

Without warning, he dipped her backwards dramatically, and she was awarded an upside-down view of Annabelle who had procured another glass of champagne from somewhere and with her eyes fixed on Lisbon as though willing her to drop dead on the spot.

Expertly, he pulled her back up into his arms again. If anyone else had tried a stunt like that, Lisbon would probably have punched them, but for some reason she trusted Jane enough not to drop her, and that he wouldn't be showing off like that if he didn't know what he was doing.

Lisbon laughed. "Guess she's not used to losing."

"Great. Just what I need; two stubborn-as-hell women in my life. One was enough."

"Thanks a lot."

"I meant that affectionately," he said. "I like that stubborn streak of yours."

She smiled a little. "How did you become such a good dancer anyway?" she asked.

"I'm not, really," he said. "But I am good at pretending. I just give off the illusion that I'm a good dancer. Fake it till you make it, and all that."

Smirking, he twirled her around as gracefully as any professional dancer.

"You're such a liar," she told him.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "We all have our crosses to bear."

* * *

She didn't know how much longer they danced together, but at some point she raised her head from his shoulder (she hadn't put it there, truly, it must have gone there all by itself) to see that there were only a few people still around and that they were the very last couple dancing.

"Jane!" she said, in a sharp whisper.

"What?" he asked, releasing her from what had begun as the traditional waltz hold and had at some stage turned into a very close, very intimate, embrace, (because he'd been able to feel her getting tired and didn't want her collapsing, and not just because he'd wanted an excuse to hold her. Honest.)

"Check it out," she said. "It looks like we're the last ones standing."

He looked around in surprise. "That's weird, I didn't even notice everyone else leaving."

"Me either."

Neither of them was game enough to admit that they'd been too caught up in their own little world to pay any attention to the other guests.

"Well I think we've put in enough of an appearance here," said Jane after a minute. "Let's go."

She nodded her agreement and they turned together and walked out of the gazebo.

If they'd wanted a measure of exactly how long they'd been dancing for, they would only have had to listen to the audible sigh of relief from the band as they put down their instruments, sincerely hoping that Annabelle Beckett was prepared to pay them the hour and a half's worth of overtime that they were due.

* * *

Once they started walking, Lisbon became suddenly, and painfully, aware of her feet, which had been trapped for hours in these damned stilettos. It felt like they were burning with every step she took and she was very grateful that they only had to go next door.

As soon as they got inside, and before he'd even switched the light on, Jane heard the _thunk, thunk_ of the shoes hitting the wall as she kicked them off her feet. He wished she wouldn't; they had to return all this stuff once this assignment was over. Though he thought he might try and petition Minelli to let her keep the little black dress. You know, just in case.

"Thank God that's over," she said, turning the light on so she could retrieve the shoes.

"Which bit?" he asked. "The party, or wearing the shoes?"

"Both," she said.

"For the record, I thought you did very well," he said.

She grinned. "It'll be even easier next time now I've learned to embrace my inner airhead."

"Don't you think you're being a little unfair?" he asked, but feeling a smile creeping up on his face as he did so. He didn't think that anyone as clever, streetwise, and worldly as Lisbon could ever be considered an airhead, fake or not.

"Well I suppose I shouldn't include Meg in that," she admitted, fairly. "But she was certainly the exception rather than the rule."

She yawned, and it dawned on Jane how very tired she looked.

"You should go and get some sleep," he told her. "You're exhausted."

"Here's an idea," she said. "How about following your own advice for once? You don't exactly look sprightly and daisy-fresh yourself."

He chuckled.

"Goodnight, Lisbon."

"Night Jane."

She turned away and began to walk up the stairs.

"What, no goodnight kiss?" he asked, unable to help himself.

She paused halfway up the stairs, turned back towards him rolling her eyes, and ironically blew him a kiss.

He reached out a hand pretending to catch it.

"That's it?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"I know they say that the sex tapers off after marriage, but I didn't expect it be this bad," he joshed. "Honestly, you have to be the most unaffectionate wife that ever walked the planet. Sometimes I wonder why I even married you."

"Sometimes I wonder the same thing."

"And you always decide it was because of my good looks and irresistible charm, right?"

"Actually, I'm _still_ wondering," said Lisbon nastily.

"Ouch," said Jane, putting a hand over his heart. "I'm not going to lie. That one hurt."

"Goodnight Jane," she repeated.

"Goodnight, cupcake," he said in his special butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth voice. "Sweet dreams."

Her eyes flashed dangerously at the 'cupcake' but she said nothing. She stomped up the rest of the stairs and disappeared around the corner.

* * *

He heard her footsteps overhead. Heard the shower turn on. Tried not to think about her slipping out of that dress. Tried even harder not to think about what was (or wasn't) underneath. Felt suddenly a little hot around the collar. Decided a cold shower for himself might be in order once she was done. Tried harder than ever not to think about the fact that she was probably naked right now, only feet above him.

Now he _really_ needed that cold shower.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

The next morning, Lisbon woke early again. This annoyed her.

She listened for whatever Jane was doing that had interrupted her sleep patterns this time, but heard nothing. He must've actually fallen asleep for once. This annoyed her even more, as now she couldn't even go and vent her frustrations on him.

Luckily the mystery of her sudden awakening was solved as her cell phone went off from the bedside table. She grabbed for it.

"Lisbon," she answered, groggily.

"About time! Why didn't you answer the first time I called?" demanded the irate voice of Virgil Minelli.

"Sorry boss," she said, stifling a yawn. "Had a late night."

"Doing what?" asked Minelli, unnecessarily suspiciously, she thought. What did he _think _they'd been doing, making out on the couch all night or something? She felt the heat rush to her cheeks at the thought. She already knew Jane was an excellent kisser; she had first-hand experience after all, but she wondered how much better he could be with hours of time on his hands and the total privacy of the house…but she shouldn't be thinking about that at all, because it was unprofessional and more importantly because she didn't care anyway, right? Right?

"The neighbour invited us to a party. We thought it'd be a good way to get the lay of the land."

"Good. Any alarm bells yet?"

"One or two," said Lisbon, thinking of Annabelle. "But nothing concrete. I'll give you a heads-up when we have one."

"Excellent. Now, the reason I called is because I needed to let you know that your liaison officer from the FBI will be dropping by today."

"What for?"

"It's nothing bad, just a meet-and greet. He'll be the one who you can go to if you need anything, so the sooner you meet him, the better."

"OK. Do you have any idea when we can expect him?"

"They said sometime this morning. Is that all right with you?"

"It's fine I guess. We didn't have anything planned." Damn Feds, always sticking their noses into everything. She didn't need them to send some lackey to check that she was doing her job properly.

"I know what you're thinking Teresa," said Minelli, breaking into her thoughts. "This is still their case you know. They have a right to know how things are progressing."

"I know, I know. I'll play nice."

"I know you will, you always do your job right. That's why you're such a good agent. So how are you and your husband getting on?" She could tell by his tone that he had been bursting to ask her this, but had restrained himself until he got the official business out of the way.

"It's been interesting," she said truthfully.

"Well I haven't heard of any brutal murders in your area thus far, so I'm guessing it's going all right."

"As well as can be expected."

"I have to go, I have to make a conference call," said Minelli. "We'll talk again in a couple of days." He rang off.

Well, she was awake now and with no chance of getting back to sleep. Coffee time.

* * *

She quietly got out of bed and padded down the stairs. She tiptoed behind the couch so as not to wake Jane, and into the kitchen and busied herself with the coffeemaker.

She sighed in satisfaction as she took the first sip of the delicious drink. How any person could ever survive with coffee, she'd never know. This coffeemaker was a definite upside to this undercover case, her cheap one at home paled in comparison. Maybe she could buy it off the CBI after this case was done.

"Good morning, sunshine," came a voice suddenly behind her, almost causing her to drop the cup.

She spun around to see Jane perched on one of the countertops holding his customary tea. She must have walked right past him without noticing; so eager was she to get to her coffee hit.

"You know, you really should do something about this caffeine dependency of yours," he said. "It's not good for your health."

"Don't do that!" she scolded him, putting her cup down next to the coffeemaker. "Clear your throat or cough or something in future, don't just sneak up on me like that."

"I didn't sneak up on you," he said, smiling. "You just didn't notice me because you were blinded by coffee withdrawals."

She grunted, but couldn't deny that it was true. Her world awareness did tend to diminish somewhat when coffee was nearby.

"So blinded in fact," he continued. "That you neglected to look in the mirror this morning before you came downstairs, I dare say. But I wouldn't worry about it, the bedhead look is actually kind of cute on you."

Horror-struck, Lisbon grabbed for the first reflective item within reach, which happened to be the stainless steel toaster. It was even worse than she'd feared. Her hair was tousled and sticking up in all directions. Desperately she tried to flatten it with one hand as Jane snickered at her from the opposite wall.

"There aren't many people who can pull off the 'just-rolled-out-of-bed' ensemble either," said Jane, as she realized that she was still in her pyjamas. Most nights she slept in one of her old college shirts and shorts but thank God last night had been cool enough to justify the wearing of actual pants. She was also silently thankful she hadn't accidentally brought along any of those ridiculous satin teddies that her sisters-in-law kept sending her from Victoria's Secret. ("Really Teresa, even if you did ever get a guy to come home with you, you'll never get him to seal the deal if you don't sell yourself a bit.")

Because her lack of a sex life had nothing to do with her crazy work schedule and everything to do with her wardrobe. Of course. Why hadn't she seen _that_ before?

For the record, she didn't understand why people spent so much money on lingerie anyway. You were only ever wearing it for a few minutes, tops, and whether it had cost you thirty dollars or three hundred, in the end it all ended up in the same place: on the floor.

She felt herself turn red and was silently grateful that Jane couldn't actually read minds. The last thing she needed was him thinking that she associated him with her panties on the floor. The situation was embarrassing enough.

She surveyed him, looking for some imperfection that she could pick at. For the first time in living memory, he wasn't wearing a three-piece-suit but dark denim jeans and a simple red T-shirt. Admittedly, his usually perfect hair was mussed up by sleeping on the couch all night, but it seemed to enhance the casual effect of the outfit, making him look just as attractive as usual. Damn it.

He grinned at her some more. "Really Lisbon, I'm flattered you feel comfortable enough around me to wander around in your pyjamas. It's a sign of trust, you know."

"I thought you were asleep," she snapped, defensively.

"Oh come on, you had to know that was a long shot," he said. Indeed, ever since he'd woken at about three 'o' clock from a particularly vivid dream involving himself, Lisbon, and one _very_ steamy shower, getting back to sleep hadn't really been an option.

It had been hard enough trying to cool down after the dream before that one where he'd grabbed her, shoved her against a wall, ripped apart that tight, black, so-damn-sexy-it-shouldn't-be-allowed dress and had his wicked way with her.

These dreams, while a vast improvement on his usual Red John related nightmares weren't anything he planned on sharing with her anytime soon. Thank God they weren't sharing the same room, or things could definitely have gotten a mite awkward.

Lisbon glared at him now, and swept out of the kitchen without another word.

* * *

The doorbell rang, and he went to answer it.

A tall man with black hair and a prominent nose stood on the step.

"Can I help you?" asked Jane.

"Patrick Jane?" asked the man brusquely, consulting a piece of paper. "I'm Special Agent Nicholas Sheens. I'm your FBI liaison." He flashed a gold badge in front of Jane's face.

"FBI liaison?"

"Basically I'm the guy who's been charged to keep an eye on you two while you're working undercover."

"Oh, right. Come in."

Sheens walked into the house. "Where's your partner?" he asked. "I have some things I need to discuss with both of you."

"She'll be down in a minute, she's just going to change."

An awkward silence fell as Jane finished the last of his tea and Sheens turned to look out the window.

"Nick? Is that you?" came Lisbon's voice from the foot of the stairs, as she took in the visitor. He swung around and Jane saw his jaw drop.

"No way," he said quietly. "Teresa?"

Jane wasn't sure he liked the idea of this guy being on first-name terms with Lisbon. They'd been working together for years and hadn't gotten that far yet.

"I don't believe it," said Nick. "Teresa Lisbon. How long has it been?"

"Too long," she said.

With several quick, long strides Nick crossed the room and enveloped Lisbon in a bear hug. He was so tall that he momentarily lifted her off her feet.

"It's so good to see you," he said, inspecting her face once he had let her go. "The years have been good to you."

She smiled at the compliment. "You didn't age too badly yourself."

Jane cleared his throat. "If we could put the brakes on this adorable little love-in for just one moment," he sneered. "Who the hell are you?" he asked Sheens bluntly.

"Jane!" she chided him for his rudeness.

"It's OK, Tessie," the other man said, smiling easily at her.

_"Tessie?"_ Jane thought dubiously to himself.

"Sorry man," he said to Jane. "I just don't believe this, I never thought I'd see her again."

"How do you guys know each other?" asked Jane.

"We're old friends."

Sure they were.

"We were at the police academy together," explained Nick. "And this woman here was the best sharpshooter in our graduating class."

"Hey come on," she said. "You were just as good as I was. It always came down to you and me when we took accuracy tests."

"And you wiped the floor with me every time," said Nick, chuckling. "She was the star recruit of the academy," he said to Jane. "Everyone learned fast not to underestimate her."

"Sounds about right," said Jane.

"As much as I'm enjoying this trip down memory lane," she said. "Don't we have work to do?"

Nick grinned. "You always were one to get down to business," he said.

* * *

Half an hour later, he was standing on the front step again to head back to the office. Lisbon offered him a cup of coffee, which he politely declined. Jane was glad of this, as he wanted nothing more than for him to leave so he could find out what the score was from Lisbon.

"Here's my number," said Nick, holding out a business card to Lisbon. "If you need anything call me, day or night."

"Thanks," she said, reaching for it.

He snatched it away from her. "I mean it Tessie, I know how you are, wanting to do everything yourself. Anything happens, call me, or I swear the next time I see you I'll wring your neck," he said, playfully.

"I'd like to see you try," she said, taking the card from him.

He laughed, and to Jane's great annoyance, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

What was this, France for God's sake? Why couldn't he just say goodbye like a normal person? Jane didn't get to kiss her like that, so why the hell should this smug Fed have the right? They hadn't even seen each other for years.

He nodded his own goodbye and then shut the door, fuming.

His mood was not improved when he turned around to find Lisbon with a wide smile on her face, the one that _he_ was usually responsible for putting there.

"So what's the deal between you and him?' he asked, spitefully. "Did you guys get a little cosy in the shooting gallery or something?" He dreaded the answer.

"No!" she said, apparently surprised by the question. "We're just friends."

Friends. A likely story. Because when most men took the trouble to get close to beautiful women like Lisbon, their intentions were always purely about the _friendship_.

"Besides," she added. "I'm not his type."

His type indeed. Not too long ago, Jane had thought his own 'type' was tall, and blonde with legs up to the chin. And then he'd met Lisbon, the polar opposite and realized that brunette and petite looked pretty damn good as well. Nobody had just one particular type.

And besides, he thought resentfully as she wandered into the kitchen to get some breakfast, she was everyone's type: a beautiful, confident, intelligent, sexy woman.

What more could a man want?

* * *

**I've been having so much fun with jealous Lisbon, I thought I'd throw in somebody for Jane to hate as well, just to keep things even. All's fair in love and jealousy!**


	6. Chapter 6

**New season starts here in Aus tomorrow. Yay! To celebrate, I give you a new chapter.**

**As always, I hope you enjoy and big thankyous to all my readers and reviewers, all of you are awesome.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

* * *

When Lisbon returned from the kitchen with a bowl of cereal in her hand, it was to find Jane lying on the couch, gazing dreamily up at the ceiling. There was something so endearingly familiar about seeing him this way, that it brought a smile to her face. Take away the jeans and T-shirt and replace them with a three-piece suit and it could have been just another day at the office.

They had a routine, the two of them. Lisbon would arrive in the mornings to find him snoozing on the couch and a cup of piping hot coffee waiting for her on her desk. At around five each evening, Jane would come into her office with another cup of coffee for her and a tea for himself, and settle himself on the red couch there until she went home.

He'd never told her why he did that, and she'd never asked. They didn't even talk all that much. She figured that he just liked the company, and she had to admit that after a tough day, it was nice to know someone else was there.

"Like what you see?" asked Jane. She felt herself jump slightly as his voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Dream on," she said.

"Oh Lisbon, you really are a bad liar. Maybe you should re-read the CBI handbook section on interrogation."

"Don't have time for that," she snapped. "I'm too busy looking for the 'How To Handle Your Wayward Consultant' appendix. But they seem to have missed out that part. Perhaps the author died before its completion, of sheer irritation and despair."

"Isn't it exhausting, coming up with all this witty repartee so early in the morning? The sun's not even fully up yet."

She shook her head. "I always have a few key insults up my sleeve to throw at you, just to tide me over until my brain wakes up."

"Ah. Preparation."

"Always. Now move over so I can sit down."

"As you wish." Obligingly, he sat up and shifted across to make room for her. She smelled good he noticed, as she sat down beside him.

He wondered if Nick had thought the same thing when he had hugged her…and then kissed her. Bastard. Just thinking about the guy made him start hating him all over again.

Had Nick seen how pretty her dark hair looked as it caught the early morning light? Or could he tell, just from the set of her shoulders, that she hadn't slept well last night and that she must have tossed and turned a lot?

Did he find these things as fascinating as Jane did?

To cover the silence, he flicked on the TV. He passed over the cartoons and the music video shows and eventually settled on the news, mid-way through a report about a murder trial. Chuckling, he pointed out Rigsby standing awkwardly in the background of the shot; the team had worked this case a few weeks ago.

He saw Lisbon smile in satisfaction when she heard the judge had found the defendant guilty. The guy had been a nasty piece of work and he knew she hoped that a jail sentence might straighten him out a little. Jane wasn't so hopeful; people didn't change, but he'd always liked the way Lisbon chose to be optimistic about such things.

"You really miss it, don't you?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"Yeah. I do."

"Just gotta crack this case. We'll be back home before you know it."

"It's been two days and we're no further along than when we started! This isn't how I do things. I don't wait around for answers to come to me, I go out and find them."

"You're still going to get your answers, we're just going to have to find them a little differently."

She ate another spoonful of cereal. "I hate sitting around like this."

"I know you do, and I can tell you're itching to get your hands on a gun and go and kick down a door or two. But you can't do that until we figure out which doors need to be kicked."

"I figured I'd just keep going until I found the right one."

"You know you can't do that. We have to be sneaky about this."

"Fine. So we'll start by running background checks on everyone we've met so far."

She reached for her cell phone, punched in a number, and waited.

"Nick?" she said, when the call connected. "It's Teresa."

Jane stifled a groan.

"No, no everything's fine," said Lisbon into the phone. "I just need you to do some background checks for me. Since I'll bet you spend most of your time behind a desk, you seemed like the natural choice." There was a pause, and then she laughed, causing Jane to glare at the phone in her hand, furious at the person on the other end of it for being able to make her laugh that way. That was supposed to be _his_ job.

Lisbon and Sheens joked around for another minute or so before she gave him the list of names that included Annabelle, Meg, and all the other people they'd met at the party. To Jane's great relief, she then hung up.

"He said he'd call if anything pops," she informed him.

"Fantastic," said Jane, dully. Just what he wanted, to have to endure several more minutes of hearing her giggling and mooning over this guy. Or even better, maybe Sheens could swing by the house and kiss her again, because Jane had certainly enjoyed _tha_t part as well.

"What's with you?" she asked as she finished off the last of her cereal.

"Oh, nothing," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Right. Nothing. I may not be a human lie detector like you, but come on, I'm not a total idiot."

"Never said you were."

"Then quit treating me like one, and talk to me."

He forced a smile. "There's nothing wrong, Lisbon. I swear."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Fine, bottle it up. Keep it to yourself like always. See if I care."

She got up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen to wash up her empty bowl.

* * *

Lisbon rinsed her bowl and spoon under a stream of water. She always hated it when Jane got like this. He retreated into himself, sometimes for days at a time, shutting everyone out. And they couldn't afford to waste any time on this case. They needed to trust each other.

It was one problem she'd never had with Nick back at the academy. It had been a rough transition for both of them, so they'd always had each other's backs. Sometimes she thought that she might never have gotten through training without him.

As she turned the water off, she heard footsteps approaching. She didn't turn around or acknowledge him. If he wanted to talk, then he was going to have to initiate the conversation.

"Are you mad at me now?" he asked her.

"Yes, I am," she said, turning to face him with her arms crossed over her chest. "This is not how a partnership is supposed to work. I've worked a couple of undercover cases before and one thing I've learned is that the only person you can trust is your partner, and we can't even do that much."

There was a pause, and then she went on.

"How can we even try to keep track of all the lies we're going to have to tell these people if we can't even be honest with each other?" she asked him.

This was why she'd always hated undercover work. While Jane might thrive on spinning an intricate web of deceit and half-truths, she'd never enjoyed having to lie to get what she wanted. She'd always been an upfront sort of person.

He was looking at her now as though not quite sure what he was going to say next.

"Lisbon you can trust me," he said after a time. "And you know I trust you."

"With the shooting and the running and the saving your life, yeah," she said dismissively. "But you're not great at sharing what goes on up here." She reached up and tapped the side of her head.

"Well you're not exactly known for telling all about what you're thinking either," he said. "There's plenty of stuff that you keep to yourself."

There was another pause.

"So what are we going to do about this?" she asked.

"Well I don't see the harm in keeping some things to ourselves but you obviously seem to have a problem with it, so I propose another compromise," said Jane. "If either of us has a thought that might be pertinent to the case, we share with it one another."

"Fine," she said.

He held up a hand. "Wait a minute, Lisbon. This is a two-part compromise."

"Oh yeah? And what's part two?"

"Part two is that we have to trust that the other person knows what to tell and what to keep to themselves. Okay?" He held out his hand to her.

"Okay." They shook on it.

After a moment, inexplicably, his face broke into his trademark grin.

"What?" she asked.

"You know, I think that's the longest conversation we've ever had without yelling at one another, or you launching some kind of projectile at my head."

She smiled. One thing she'd always liked about Jane, he was a master at breaking the tension.

"I _knew_ I should've brought that stapler with me," she said.

"Never mind. I'm sure you can find some kind of kitchen utensil to use as a substitute. I'll bet there's a meat mallet somewhere. That would do the job nicely."

"Or a rolling pin," she suggested.

"Vegetable peeler."

"Electric knife."

"Nasty," he said. "And let's not forget the classic frying pan."

They were both laughing now, and Jane found he had forgotten all about why he had been so grumpy only a few minutes earlier. There was something about sparring with Lisbon that always seemed to cheer him up, no matter how foul a mood he was in. He suspected that it had a lot to do with her smile. It was infectious; when she smiled, he smiled too.

* * *

As she laughed, a lock of hair had fallen across her face and without thinking; he reached over and brushed it away, his fingers grazing her skin as he did so. He let them trail down her face before he took his hand away.

Suddenly, the laughter died and the tension was back with a vengeance. They stood with their eyes locked on to each other's, neither of them seemingly able to breathe.

Without knowing for sure what he was doing, he took a step towards her. He saw her try to back away, but found herself hemmed in between his body and the sink. Suddenly bold, he took another step forward, making the distance between them even less. Now their bodies were separated by half an inch, if that.

He could see the panic in her eyes, knew without having to check that her pulse must be racing. Well, at least he assumed it was, if his own heart beating in double time was any indication. He could see her gearing up to say something, looking for an escape, but he couldn't let her ruin this moment, not now.

She started to speak, but he put a finger to her lips to silence her. His other hand he put around her waist, pulling her to him and he was pleased that she didn't fight it. Once sure that she wasn't going anywhere, he took his finger away and used that hand to cup her chin, drawing her face to his.

It seemed she had lost all will to resist as her lips parted and her eyes closed. He felt his eyes close too, still not believing that this was actually about to happen, and that it was real and not part of a ruse or fantasy. He could feel their breaths mingling together. One more second…

A sudden explosion of sound from the next room shattered the silence as effectively as a sledgehammer on a piece of fine china. His eyes snapped open and he felt her wrenching herself from his grip, and then giving him a little shove so she could get away.

"Lisbon…Teresa, wait." He reached for her hand. They could still salvage the situation if he could manage to override her flight reflex.

She snatched her hand out of his reach. "Jane please, just leave me alone."

Before he could stop her, she pushed past him and bolted for the front door. It slammed behind her. Jane echoed the noise by slamming his fist down on the marble countertop. It hurt like hell, but he felt so frustrated and cheated that he didn't even care. They'd been so close.

* * *

Resentfully, he stalked into the living room to find out what exactly he could thank for ruining the moment he'd been fantasizing about for months.

On the television was a replay of a basketball game the night before between the L.A Lakers and New York Knicks. One of the Knicks performed a spectacular slam-dunk, prompting a roar of cheering from the watching crowd.

He clicked a button on the remote and the screen went blank. He resisted the urge to hurl the remote at the nearest wall. Basketball. He'd always hated basketball.

Now he knew why.

* * *

Lisbon didn't have a clue where she was going. She didn't have her car keys, she didn't have her cell phone or her wallet, and she didn't even have a key to get back into the house. She didn't know what street she was on and she didn't even know in which direction she was heading. All she knew was that she had to put as much distance between herself and Jane as possible.

How could she have let that happen? How could she have been so stupid as to let herself get into such a situation? She should have pushed him away the instant she thought things might be getting out of hand, but instead it had taken that mysterious sound to bring her to her senses.

The whole time, her mind had been screaming "no!" at her with various degrees of urgency but to her shame, her body and her heart had drowned it out with a resounding "yes, yes, yes!" She'd let herself get carried away in the moment and she knew that she wouldn't have had the self-control to stop it on her own. She'd wanted to kiss him. Badly.

And what if that noise hadn't come at that exact moment? They could still be there now, kissing with her back pressed up to the sink or even worse, making their way up to the bedroom, shedding their clothes on the stairs as they went. She felt a shiver of excitement at the very thought, which made her feel even guiltier.

She'd always known this undercover thing was a terrible idea, and now she was certain of it. How was she supposed to go back and face him now, after this? There was no point pretending she hadn't been as into it as he was, she may have resisted in the beginning, but it hadn't taken her long to succumb, and annoyingly, Jane happened to be one of those 'if at first, you don't succeed," types.

He'd try again. She was sure of it. And if he failed, he'd try again, and keep trying until he got what he wanted. And she didn't trust herself to withstand the Jane charm offensive for very long, she was only human for heaven's sake, and he had the added advantage of knowing exactly which buttons to push.

There was only one thing for it. They had to get this assignment done and get back home to normality. Fast.

* * *

"Rachel! Rachel!"

She'd been so lost in her dissection of her and Jane's almost-kiss, that she hadn't even noticed someone had been calling her name. Well her fake name anyway.

She spun around and saw a woman in running gear waving to her from across the street. She waved back and as the other woman came jogging over across the road she recognized her. Meg, from the party last night.

"Hey," said Meg when she reached her, panting. "Thought you'd gone over to the Dark Side for a moment there."

"What?"

"Well you were walking along in a total daze, which is the usual mental state of people in this area. You had me worried there for a sec."

Lisbon forced a laugh. "Sorry. Just had a lot on my mind."

Meg smiled. "No worries. I always found that nothing clears your head like a walk or run."

Lisbon nodded distractedly, and the smile faded from Meg's face.

"Are you OK?" she asked. "You seem a little upset."

"I…" Lisbon began. Even if she weren't sworn to secrecy, she didn't know how she'd even begin to start explaining the events of the past couple of days.

"Fight with your hubby?" asked Meg, suddenly.

"Well, yeah," said Lisbon, happily accepting the excuse. "How did you know?"

"You've got that shell-shocked kind of look on your face," said Meg, kindly. "My sister used to look like that all the time before she wised up and got a divorce. Come on, you look like you need a coffee. My house is just around the corner, we'll pick up my car and I'll take you to my favourite little café across town. You'll love it."

"Thanks Meg," said Lisbon sincerely. "But you really don't have to."

"I know I don't," she said, waving off the protest. "But you look like you could use a friend right now."

Forty-five minutes later, they were seated in the café, each nursing a large coffee, (Meg had tipped the barista to add an extra shot into Lisbon's.)

"So," she said. "You survived Annabelle Beckett's society snoozefest last night? I'm telling you, there's not enough alcohol on the planet to make those things interesting."

Lisbon laughed. "I'll drink to that."

"I don't mean to pry," said Meg. "But you and your man looked pretty happy while you were dancing together. Like you were in one of those we're-insanely-in-love-and-don't-you-wish-you-were-us bubbles. Every person in that place was jealous of you guys. What happened?"

Lisbon took a sip of coffee, to put off the moment when she had to answer. Great, another person to add to the ever growing tally of people that thought there was something going on between her and her consultant. Just because she acknowledged that he was attractive and she liked the idea of kissing him, it didn't mean she was in love with him or anything, did it? But then she reminded herself that Meg thought they were married anyway, so it didn't really count.

Right?

"Did you ever really, really want to do something, even though you knew that you shouldn't?" she found herself asking.

Meg smiled, wickedly. "Totally," she said. "But I guess with something like that you have to decide whether or not it's worth the risk."

That, thought Lisbon, was very good advice.

* * *

Meg pulled her SUV to a stop outside Lisbon's house.

"Ugh, you live next door to Annabelle?" she asked, with an expression of distaste on her face. "I'm so sorry."

Lisbon shrugged. "I think it's kind of comforting to know that neighbours can be a pain no matter where you live."

"Fair enough."

"Hey thanks for today," said Lisbon warmly. "It helped a lot." It had been a long time since she'd just gone out for coffee with a girlfriend and relaxed a bit. She'd forgotten how good it could be just to sit and unwind and not think about guns or murder or crime scene photos. She should do it more often.

"Anytime. Intelligent women are a dying breed in this town. We need to look out for each other."

Lisbon got out of the car and made to shut the door.

"Hey Rach?" said Meg, making her pause. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

Lisbon shook her head.

"Because I have these vouchers for some day spa and they expire tomorrow. Want to come with? I already asked Vicky Madress but I still have one more."

Madress. Why did that name sound familiar? Lisbon cast her mind back. Madress, Madress. Then suddenly it came to her.

The file the CBI had sent them. Vicky Madress. Wife of Sid Madress, a convicted drug offender and suspected member of their cocaine ring. Perfect. With a little luck they could be home by tomorrow night.

"I'd love to," she said.

"Great," said Meg. "Now get in there and sort things out with your husband and I'll swing by at 10:00 tomorrow and pick you up."

She drove off.

Lisbon took a deep breath as she looked at the front door of the house. She couldn't put it off forever; she'd have to go in sooner or later. What would he say? What should _she_ say?

Maybe they could just ignore the whole thing. Pretend it never happened. She liked that idea a lot. But how would he want to handle it?

Time to find out.

* * *

Jane had spent most of the day trying to figure out what he should do when Lisbon came home, and he had settled on two main options.

The first involved pouncing on her the moment she walked in the door. Take her by surprise, and start kissing her before she knew what was happening. He figured if he didn't give her any time to think about it, she'd be less likely to pull away from him and hopefully, less inclined to try and break his neck.

The southern areas of his body, that had been most disappointed by this morning's non-event were in roaring approval of this plan.

The other, more sensible areas were leaning more towards the second option, which basically involved backing off for the time being and trying again at a later date. This was important, and he didn't want to screw it up. If he rushed it, there was a lot more at stake than just rejection. It could mean the end of their partnership, the end of their friendship, and he wasn't prepared to lose either of those things right now.

But he really, really wanted to kiss her, and if they stayed trapped alone in this little house for much longer, he had a feeling that his patience and his resolve might very quickly run out.

The doorknob turned and she walked inside. He noticed that she looked a lot calmer now, more like herself than the hysterical state she'd been in when she'd left this morning. She even smiled at him.

"Hey."

"Hi. Good walk?"

"I ran into Meg. We had coffee."

"Nice. I've been waiting here all day for you to show up. You didn't take your key."

"I was in kind of a hurry."

"I noticed."

She walked a little further into the room but seemed reluctant to come too near him. He was glad he'd chosen option two.

"So, about this morning…"

"What about it?"

"Lisbon." She was too smart to play dumb. It didn't suit her.

"I was hoping we could just forget about it."

"I wanted to say sorry that it turned out that way."

"Yeah, me too. Now let's not talk about it anymore."

"Whatever you say."

He had a feeling she'd misunderstood him. He'd said he was sorry about how it had turned out.

He'd never said he was sorry he did it.

* * *

**What I like about this chapter is that it has a bit of everything in it. Some bickering, some jealousy, some angst, some fluff. Hope you liked it too!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Come on, you all know it isn't mine.**

* * *

An uncomfortable scene was currently facing Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon.

It had all begun innocently enough, with Lisbon having misplaced her hairbrush and after being unable to locate it in her room, heading to the bathroom to see if she'd left it there.

The problem with this, was that both she and Jane had been living alone for a very long time and one thing that happened when you were used to living by yourself was that you didn't bother with things like locking bathroom doors behind you when you were inside.

Another thing that happened, you forgot about stuff like knocking on the said bathroom door, and just barged in, opening up the possibility of creating a very awkward situation for both parties involved.

Which was exactly how she came to walk in on Jane while he was in the bathroom.

And also happened to be shirtless.

Oh, dear God.

It appeared she'd surprised him in the process of brushing his teeth as he was holding a tube of toothpaste in one hand and his toothbrush in the other. One look at her face in the reflective door of the medicine cabinet told her that they were both as astonished as each other at this strange turn of events.

Positive thing: From the waist down, he was completely covered in a pair of light blue pyjama bottoms.

Negative thing: While she was technically clothed, tonight had been warmer than the last, causing her to trade her pyjama pants for shorts, of the rather small variety.

Positive thing: His upper body was surprisingly well-defined for someone who, to her knowledge, got very little exercise.

Negative thing: She shouldn't be noticing the fact that he looked actually quite appealing sans shirt. And she definitely shouldn't be thinking about what might happen if she ever saw him with _all_ of his clothes off. The thought made her blush so deeply she wondered if he could feel the heat coming off her body.

Boy, was she in trouble.

Jane cleared his throat to break the silence.

"Was there something you needed, my dear?"

"Looking for my hairbrush," she said, quietly, wishing the ground would open and swallow her up.

"This it?" he asked, holding up something green which was resting on the side of the sink.

"Yep," she said, grabbing it from him. "Thanks. I'll just…go."

She bolted for the door, which clicked shut behind her.

* * *

Jane chuckled to himself as he squeezed toothpaste onto the brush. Short shorts huh? That was unexpected. Though she certainly had the legs for them. And she was always so cute when she was embarrassed.

But what had she been thinking about that had made her go so red? Sure, his main focus had been to mentally undress her as soon as he'd seen those tiny little shorts but still, he'd have to be blind not to notice the fact that his friend had suddenly taken on the colour of an overripe tomato.

Oh, how he wished (and not for the first time) that he could read her mind, because he'd be willing to gamble that her brain might have been having a few inappropriate thoughts about him.

It was only fair. She was on his mind in some capacity in practically every waking moment, and star of his dreams (both innocent and not-so-innocent) most nights. It was gratifying to think that this fixation he had with the idea of the two them together may not be totally one-sided.

But, oh God, those shorts. Was she trying to _kill_ him? Really, he thought as he started brushing, there should be some kind of rule against it. She shouldn't be allowed to tease him like that; he was just a man for God's sake. How much temptation could a man stand before he snapped?

* * *

On an embarrassment scale of one to ten, Lisbon thought, the bathroom encounter had been an eleven. She didn't know which part had been worse, her minimal attire, or her sudden loss of the power of speech. Or maybe it was that knowing twinkle in Jane's eye that made her think he knew exactly what she was thinking about.

On the plus side, a shirtless Jane was certainly a memory worthy of revisiting (from the relatively safe distance of a flight of stairs and a locked bedroom door, so as to prevent her from doing anything stupid, like say, going back in there, flinging herself into his arms and seeing how things panned out. Not that she'd ever, ever do something like that, because she wasn't interested in him that way anyway.)

Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she might actually start believing it.

* * *

The morning found Lisbon and Jane sitting at the kitchen table (fully-clothed) and having reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss what had happened last night. Both were bleary-eyed and suppressing the occasional yawn, due to what could hardly be described as a restful night's sleep for either of them.

Highly vivid sexual fantasies tended to have that effect.

"So," said Jane, in an attempt to draw their attention away from the (half-naked) elephant in the room. "You were gone for a while yesterday. What were you and Meg doing all that time?"

"I told you, we had coffee. And then she drove me home."

He grinned. "Interesting."

Lisbon had known Jane for long enough to know that whenever Jane said "interesting" in that particular smug tone that it could only mean one thing: trouble.

"What's interesting?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"Oh, nothing."

"_Jane_," she began warningly.

As he looked at her he could see her eyes narrowing and the line between her eyebrows deepening, sure signs that she was getting irritated. Just in case the way she'd snarled at him just now hadn't tipped him off. He chuckled. "Trust me, you don't want to know. You won't like it."

"What else is new? I don't like most of the things that you have to say."

"Now that's not fair. You always appreciate my brilliant insights. And you didn't seem to mind too much when I told you that you looked pretty last week."

"I don't remember that," she said, shortly.

"Sure you do," he said, earnestly. "You'd been wearing your hair up that whole week but that day you came in with it loose. And you were wearing that dark red blouse and your favourite jeans-"

"You remember what I was wearing?" Lisbon cut across him incredulously, a little taken aback by the detail of his recollection. "And how do you know those are my favourite jeans?"

He shrugged. "You only ever wear them to work when you're feeling down and need a confidence boost."

She was speechless at this. She'd never told him that. Sometimes she was still surprised at how observant he was, even though he proved it with every case they undertook.

"Getting back to my original question," she said, before he could voice any of his other opinions concerning her. "What's interesting?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

She glared at him.

"All right, all right. I just think it's interesting that even though you claim to hate this assignment, you just referred to this house we share together as 'home.' I think that part of you deep down is enjoying being fake-married to me."

The glare intensified.

He smirked. "Told you that you wouldn't like it."

She took a large bite of toast so she wouldn't have to speak for a minute. Once she'd swallowed it (taking as long as possible) she decided that a complete change of subject would be a good idea.

"You'll have to entertain yourself for the day. I'm going to the spa with Meg."

He raised an eyebrow, as though not sure whether to believe her or not, and then to her great surprise, he burst out laughing.

"_You're_ going to a day spa? Seriously?"

"Oh shut up, Jane. It isn't that funny."

"Yes it is."

Lisbon glared at Jane over her slice of toast. Who knew that her plans for the day could be a cause of such hilarity? It wasn't like she was into all this self-pampering garbage, she'd only agreed to this trip for information, as well as a sense of duty to Meg. She'd been terrific yesterday. She explained all this to Jane but it didn't seem to be enough to quell the consultant's amusement about the whole thing.

'What is so funny?" she asked irritably, over the top of his chuckles. "I used that gift certificate Rigsby gave me for my birthday, didn't I?"

"Only because you didn't want to disappoint him. You hated the whole thing."

"I did not hate it, and anyway, it was a damn sight more practical than the pony a certain idiot decided to buy me!"

He waved a hand airily. "Oh the hell with practicality. I know my present was your favourite."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to. As soon as you saw that pony, you just lit up. Enough said."

He smiled reminiscently at the memory. Seeing the pure joy on her face had made the gift worth every dime he'd spent on it. And that had been a lot of dimes.

"But now we're getting off the point," he said. " The reason I think you hate day spas so much, is that they combine two things that you are spectacularly bad at, making small talk with strangers, and sitting still for long periods of time."

"What a fascinating insight," she said sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. "Tell me more."

He grinned. "Why? You know all this already, you just won't admit it."

Abruptly, she stood up from the table. "I have to get ready," she said. "Meg will be here soon. Clean up the kitchen," she ordered.

He mock-saluted her. "Right away, my lady."

She shot him a withering look, and then swept out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. He could hear her cursing him with every step she took.

* * *

A car horn blared from outside and Jane paused in the kitchen cleanup as he heard her footsteps coming down the stairs again.

"See you later, Jane," she said, in the tone of voice she used when she wanted him to know she was still mad at him but didn't have time to yell.

He hurried to catch up with her as she reached the front door.

"What?" she snarled, turning around to face him. "I haven't got time for more of your crap, Meg's waiting for me."

He held both hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Easy tiger. I just wanted to remind you that under the terms of yesterday's compromise if you find out anything important, call me."

She rolled her eyes. "No Jane, I was just going to send my carrier pigeon instead."

He grinned. "Maybe while you're there you can get them to seaweed scrub this bad mood out of you."

"Don't count on it."

"Never do."

She pushed open the front door, but he caught her arm before she could walk outside.

"You're forgetting something."

"What?"

"You didn't say goodbye."

She didn't know what she'd been expecting but it certainly wasn't for him to lean over and kiss her cheek, and to linger there a lot longer than strictly necessary. And for her skin to burn where his lips had been. And she hadn't been prepared for the sudden wanting for him to kiss her again, preferably on the lips this time.

Maybe she didn't have to go _right_ away. Just a few minutes more….

The car horn blared again.

"Come on you two lovebirds, knock it off!" came Meg's cheery voice through an open window. "Don't make me go get a bucket of cold water!"

Jane tore his eyes from Lisbon and shot Meg an apologetic smile. "She'll be with you in just a second," he called out. As he turned back to his 'wife' he lowered his voice to little more than a whisper.

"Gotta keep up the act," he said. "Good luck, and do me a favour and try to enjoy yourself if you can. You could benefit from relaxing a little. See you tonight."

She didn't realize that her arm was tingling until he let it go.

* * *

Lisbon could still feel her face burning as she got into the car.

"Looks like you two are back to normal," remarked Meg, smirking.

"Guess we are," said Lisbon, though it couldn't be further from the truth. This whole situation, however pleasant and exciting was anything but normal.

As the car pulled away, Jane congratulated himself on a job well done. At least this time they'd progressed to actual contact, and now all he had to do was convince her to let him kiss her where it actually counted.

He mustn't rush it. Baby steps were required.

It had to be planned carefully, with no potential distractions or interruptions, because he had a hunch that when he finally started kissing her, he wasn't going to want to stop.

* * *

Vicky Madress turned out to be a polite and friendly, if a little ditzy young woman who Lisbon spent most of the morning carefully questioning to see what information she could tease out. She learned that Sid Madress was currently out of town and that his wife knew neither where he was or when he'd be back. If Sid was in their drug ring, he certainly was playing his cards close to his chest.

She thought that if she had the chance to get Vicky in an interrogation room, then she probably would have gotten a lot more out of her. Giving people the runaround like this was much more Jane's department than hers, and it would look suspicious if she was asking too many questions.

Life was so much simpler when you had a badge.

Her cell phone rang, earning her a dirty look from the therapist, who had told them to turn off all electronic devices to avoid disturbing the chi. She'd then proceeded to give them a long-winded explanation about how cell phones shouldn't be used as they interfered with your chakra and prevented you from achieving inner peace.

Lisbon however, was fully prepared to put aside chakra health in favour of getting their case solved. Excusing herself, she slipped around a partition into another room to take the call.

"Hello?"

"Tessie, it's Nick. Why are you talking so quietly?"

"I'm at one of those stupid day spas. Sound carries for miles in here."

Nick chuckled. "A day spa? That's what the CBI counts as work?"

"Tough job I know, but someone has to do it."

"Right. Now the reason I called was because I've finished running those background checks you asked me to do. Everybody came back clean except a Megan Chiswick."

Lisbon's heart sank. Of course it would be just her luck that the person she liked best in this God-awful town would turn out to be a criminal.

"She had a minor drug conviction a few years back, just a possession charge," Nick went on. "She's fairly small-time, but I think she'd be worth talking to. I can get some people to track her down if you like."

"She's actually here with me right now," said Lisbon reluctantly.

"Perfect. Get back in there and see if you can girl-talk a confession out of her. With any luck this case could be done by the end of the day."

"Yeah right, I'll just go back and find a way to casually slip into the conversation that I'm an undercover cop who thinks that she's a drug dealer. Can't think of any way that plan could _possibly_ go south."

Without bothering to say goodbye, she hung up the phone.

* * *

Back at the house, Jane was bored. It was all well and good for Lisbon, flitting about town like a little social butterfly, but he wasn't used to being left behind and frankly, he resented it.

As he passed the kitchen, he saw the keys to the Suburban lying on the counter. Usually, Lisbon would rather chop her own foot off then let him drive it, but she wasn't here now, was she? And they weren't going to get this solved with him sitting around the house like some trophy husband.

Impulsively he grabbed the keys and walked out the door. Even though it was mid-afternoon on a Sunday, he thought he might go for a drink.

* * *

Lisbon came back around the partition to find Meg eyeing her curiously as a therapist darted around her, fussing with her nails.

"Will?" she enquired.

"Yeah," Lisbon lied. "Just checking in."

Meg smiled. "You're so lucky, having someone who cares about where you are all the time. My last boyfriend wouldn't have noticed if I was gone for a week, at least until the dirty laundry started piling up."

Lisbon laughed at that as she made her way back into her chair. She had to repress the urge to slap away the therapist's hand as the woman seized her left hand and began filing her nails with great vigour.

"Sid's in and out so much it's like being married to a ghost," piped up Vicky from her seat across from them. "I've given up asking him where he goes because the only answer I ever get is 'don't worry about it, honey,'"

"Ah, men," said Meg, closing her eyes. "Can't live with them, can't live without them."

Lisbon thought about that in the silence that followed. In their normal life, Patrick Jane found every conceivable way to drive her up the wall, and it was considerably awkward to now have to share a house with him and their buzzing sexual tension. But then she tried to picture her life without him in it. Sure, her professional standing could only be improved but honestly, things would be a lot less fun without him around. Of course, there was nothing enjoyable about investigating the deaths of human beings, but you had to find some way to shut yourself off from the sadness of it all or it would consume you. And Jane, with his crazy stunts and silly little presents and bright smile, gave her that.

Couldn't live with him, couldn't live without him.

A few hours later, Lisbon sat in the front seat as Meg drove her back to the house she shared with 'husband'/consultant. It was just the two of them in the car as Vicky had driven herself. It was the perfect time to ask Meg a few questions, especially since they were stuck in traffic, and likely to remain so for a while.

"I just realized, I always complain to you about Will, but I've never bothered to ask you about _your_ boyfriend."

Meg gave a short laugh. "There's not much to tell, since there isn't one at the moment. Because you see, I'm never smart enough to fall for a good guy like Will. I have the classic female shortcoming of always going for bad boys."

Lisbon snorted at this rather optimistic notion of Jane. He might appear like the quintessential good guy, but she knew it was only because he took care to keep his dark side well-hidden from the rest of the world.

"You'd think by now I'd know better," Meg went on. "But it's always the same, I just get caught up in the romance of it all and in the end it always comes back to bite me on the ass."

"Really?"

Lisbon marvelled at the fact that anybody could be so open and truthful about their life to someone who was more or less a complete stranger. This was obviously what happened when you had an easy, loving upbringing and hadn't developed serious trust issues at the age of twelve.

"Well one of them turned out to be married, and another is currently doing time for kiting cheques. And of course there was Greg Gould who I've got to thank for giving me a criminal record."

Lisbon listened with keen interest. Perhaps this would explain the drug charge on Meg's background check.

"It was about three years ago now. One of my friends begged me to go on this double date with her, which turned out to be a disaster for her, but Greg I got on all right so we swapped phone numbers and he called me a few weeks later. We hadn't even been dating for that long when we were stopped on the street by a cop and he asked me to hand over my bag. You can imagine my surprise when a baggie full of weed came out of it. Greg that bastard, had slipped it in there without me knowing about it."

"Did you tell the cop that?"

"Of course I did, but you know, think like a cop for a second. Would you have believed me?"

"Probably not," said Lisbon. How many times had she seen drug dealers use the old 'it's not mine, and I don't even know where it came from' excuse?

"Exactly. So, needless to say the relationship was over after that little incident. I heard that he's moved on to dealing the harder stuff now and he's still using his poor unknowing girlfriends as his drug mules. Guess I should feel lucky I got out when I did."

There was a pause in conversation as Meg negotiated a heavily-congested intersection.

"Really Rach," she said once they had cleared it. "I don't think you know just how lucky you are. I mean, I only met Will for a few minutes but I could tell right away that the man worships the ground you walk on. I'd give anything to have someone look at me the way he looks at you."

Lisbon was saved from answering when they turned into her street and pulled up in front of the house.

* * *

"Looks like Will's gone out," said Meg.

Lisbon quickly turned to look at the driveway. The _empty_ driveway.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath.

"Something wrong?"

"Oh no," she said in an unconvincing voice as she unfastened her seatbelt. "Everything's fine."

"OK," said Meg, doubtfully. "I'll call you sometime this week and we can do lunch or something."

"Sure," said Lisbon, forcing a smile. "See you later."

She'd barely walked two steps into the house when she dragged her cell phone out of her pocket and speed-dialled Jane. She had all the team's cell numbers programmed into her phone but Jane's was right at the top. None of the others were as prone to disappearing as he was, and on the rare occasion that they did, it was a safe bet that the consultant would be behind it.

"Yes, my dove?" his cheery voice came through the phone once the call connected. She could hear a rumble of voices and laughter in the background, along with glasses clinking and some faint music.

"Jane, where the hell is my car?"

"I got bored. So I borrowed it."

"Stole it, more like."

"You say potato…"

"I'll tell you what I say," she growled at him. "I say that if you don't walk in this door in half an hour with my car in perfect condition, you're going to find out exactly how many household objects can be used as a deadly weapon."

"You make a good argument, my dear." There was a bumping sound as she guessed he put the phone down on the table.

"Deal me out of this hand," she heard him say. "My better half wants me home ASAP."

"Thank God for that," she heard a slightly muffled male voice say. "You've just about cleaned me out. "

There were several murmurs of agreement.

"We'll have to play again someday," she heard Jane's voice say. "But in the meantime, I believe you gentlemen owe me some money."

Lisbon couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for Jane's unseen companions as they all grumbled amongst themselves. They could have had no idea that the harmless-looking blonde guy that they had encountered was about to swindle them out of every cent that they had. Such was the danger of underestimating Patrick Jane.

"You've been gambling," she said as the phone was picked up again.

"Correction. I've been _winning_. Oh thanks, Martin…" She imagined her consultant sitting there holding a thick wad of cash, just like in Vegas. "See you soon, hon," he said and the phone line went dead.

* * *

**I'm not thrilled about this chapter, but I figured it was better than no chapter at all. And it has been a couple of weeks since the last update. I hope you enjoyed it.**


	8. Chapter 8

**This one's my favourite so far. You'll have to read it to find out why.**

**Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, alerted and favourited. You're all stars!**

* * *

When he pulled the Suburban into the driveway of their little house, Jane drew a deep sigh. Fortunately, no harm had befallen the car during the day, but there was still the small issue of him borrowing it without her knowledge. Stealing, she'd called it over the phone. Such a harsh term. Sure, he may not have technically asked her permission but he'd taken the car with every intention of bringing it back, which he had now done. It all made perfect sense.

Now all he had to do was convince Lisbon of that. He likened explaining things to Lisbon to negotiating a field riddled with land mines; he had to tread carefully, or she was liable to explode without provocation.

Gathering himself for the storm about to come, Jane put his key in the lock and turned it. He felt an odd sort of nostalgia as he did so. There was nothing quite like the feeling of coming home to an irate wife. Even though so many years had passed, it felt exactly the same, the nervous apprehension, the excuses and explanations whirling around in his head.

How many times had he arrived home to a stony-faced Angela, with her hands on her hips? She'd always liked to use the silent treatment to convey when she was really pissed off at him. She'd been a master at it, sometimes refusing to speak to him for days. Lisbon he suspected would have a different approach involving some shouting and a fair few death threats. He hoped he might be able to calm her down before she started throwing things however; her temper had been known to get the best of her on occasion and she could hurl projectiles with deadly accuracy.

The most important part now was to not show any fear. If she sensed weakness, she'd strike, and she would be merciless.

"Honey, I'm home!"

* * *

From the living room, Lisbon heard the call and immediately glanced at the clock on the wall. It was now seven o 'clock, a full hour and a half after she had called him. God only knew what he had been doing all that time. She followed the sound of his voice into the kitchen, where he was putting several bags down on the bench.

He seemed to hear her approach as he quickly swung around to face her.

"OK, before you start, the car's fine," he said. "It's all in one piece, sitting in the driveway. See for yourself if you don't believe me."

She walked up beside him and glanced out the window and sure enough, her car was parked exactly where he'd said it would be. Well, that was a relief at least, but it still didn't excuse the manner in which it had been taken.

"You know, I find it amazing that even though you work in law enforcement you don't seem to realise that stealing is wrong" she said.

He smirked. "What are you going to do, arrest me for grand theft auto? Yes, I took the car, yes I should have asked you first and I'm sorry I didn't, but it's back now, so let's just call it square. And just to help the forgiveness process along, I brought a peace offering."

He held out one of the bags to her and she smelled the delicious aroma of Thai food wafting from it. She hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning, and it only dawned on her now how hungry she actually was.

"I got all your favourites," he said. "And I also bought us this."

This time he pulled from another bag a bottle of red wine. Expensive red wine too, by the looks of it.

"I know the CBI are funding this little misadventure but I'm not sure Thai banquets and wine are really viable as a state expense," she said.

"Oh don't worry, I didn't use the card," he said, referring to the credit card they'd been given for the duration of the assignment.

"Then how did you pay for all of this?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Well the food is courtesy of my new friend Martin Sims, and we have Curtis Fairburn to thank for the wine…"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Please don't say you bought all this from money you won gambling."

"Fine. I won't say it." He turned to get plates out of the cupboard.

_"Jane…"_

"What? I am just a regular guy who may or may not have got lucky on a few hands of poker and may or may not have come home with a little more money than when he started. It's the American dream you know. All the cash, with zero the effort."

"Yeah, you're a real trailblazer," she said, irritably. "So how much did you win?"

"A gentleman never talks business with a lady."

"Well since there's no gentleman in this room, I think we're in the clear."

He paused in opening the Thai cartons and raised his eyebrows at her. "That was a little below the belt, Lisbon. Just saying."

"Sometimes the truth hurts, Jane," she shot back. "Just saying."

"My, my we have exceeded our daily dose of feisty pills this evening," he said calmly. "Are you sure you spent the day at a day spa?"

"All the day spas on Earth couldn't help my stress levels, which for some reason always seem to get so much higher when I'm around you."

"Maybe you're confusing stress with all that pent-up lust and desire you're harbouring for me. You ever need a release, you just say the word."

"The only pent-up feelings I have concerning you are _bloodlust_ and the _desire_ to break your neck. Can I release those on you instead?"

"Lisbon I'm a lover, not a fighter. Anytime you want me to prove it to you, just let me know." He winked at her, and she forced herself not to smile. "Now in the meantime how about you do something constructive like open the wine?"

"No, it feels wrong to drink it. That poor guy probably gave you everything he had and you wasted it on wine."

"Come on," he said. "I slaved away for seven whole minutes in that poker game to win this money, doing my job as husband and provider. So now you have to do _your_ job as my loving and supportive wife and enjoy the spoils. And besides," he added, holding out the bottle. "He didn't give me half of what he had tucked away in his wallet. I saw for myself. Can't play cards worth a damn, but he's no fool when it comes to money."

"You're sure?"

"There was a wad of bills in there as thick as a copy of 'War and Peace.'"

Hating him, she took the bottle from him and poured out two glasses. She was no wine critic, but even she could tell by the bouquet of this particular wine that it had probably cost equal to her weekly salary. She tasted a bit. It was delicious. Well, it would want to be considering how much he'd no doubt paid for it. Or apparently, what Curtis Fairburn had paid for it.

* * *

Once they were both settled with a plateful of food each, forgoing the dining table for the greater comfort of the couch, Jane raised his glass.

"I propose a toast."

"To what?"

He thought for a moment, before his face broke into it's usual grin. "To Martin Sims, Curtis Fairburn and the fact that there will always be another sucker who thinks he can beat me at poker."

She couldn't suppress a laugh at this, and he beamed at her. This was just what he'd been hoping for. Just the two of them, spending time together, not talking about work. Lisbon relaxed, smiling, enjoying his company instead of stressed out and upset.

"How about we toast to solving the case instead?" she suggested.

"You're such a cop," he said, chuckling, but he clinked his glass with hers anyway. Even miles away from the CBI, in a new house, in a new town, with a new name, she was still the straight-and-narrow-but-fiery-as-hell policewoman at heart. He was glad for that.

That was the woman he'd fallen for, after all.

After they'd eaten their fill, the empty plates lay forgotten at the side of the couch as he topped off their wine glasses for the second time.

Lisbon felt strangely mellow. Not drunk exactly, (she'd drunk enough hard liquor in her time to build up a reasonable tolerance to alcohol) but well fed, and strangely contented. For the first time, she wasn't thinking about the case, in fact she wasn't thinking much at all. Instead she allowed herself to simply feel. The soft carpet under her feet, the smooth consistency of the wine going down her throat, Jane's hand brushing against her leg as he moved to put the now-empty wine bottle on the floor. She didn't even think to worry about the fact that her whole body seemed to tense at the contact.

She was too busy feeling. And his touch felt good.

"You OK?" he asked her. "You're uncharacteristically quiet."

"I'm fine."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Honestly? Nothing."

He smiled. "Nothing? I find that hard to believe."

"No seriously, I'm just sitting here drinking my wine and not thinking. It's kind of nice."

"Did they slip some sedatives in your Thai or something?" he asked, with amusement. "I've never seen you this relaxed."

"Maybe it's a delayed effect of the day spa," she said. "Maybe it takes a couple of hours for it to kick in."

"I think it's because your body doesn't know how to handle not being on alert all the time. It went into shock."

They both laughed.

"It's nice to see you like this," he said. "You should really try to take some time out more often."

"And when exactly am I supposed to do that? Between work and my yoga class and cleaning up after your messes all the time, I feel like I barely have time to sleep sometimes, let alone just sit like this."

"You should make time."

She finished the rest of her wine and put the empty glass down next to the plates.

"Did you know that it's been over two years since I took a vacation?" she asked.

"Is that supposed to shock me?" Jane asked. "Because I'm sorry, but it really doesn't."

She smacked him playfully on the arm. "Shut up," she said. "Last time I took vacation, I was away from work for a week. I thought I'd be so thrilled to finally get some time to myself, away from all the madness. But after two days I was going crazy. All I wanted to do was be at work, where there was noise and people and action. Because when I was alone all I did was think."

"What about?"

"I thought about my life. I thought about how my apartment doesn't even feel like my home, because I'm hardly ever there. I thought about how the only real friends I have are Cho, Rigsby, Van Pelt and you. And I thought about how when I'm not at work I feel like a part of me disappears. That's why I don't like taking time off, it forces me to dwell on this sorry excuse I have for a life. And you know sometimes it makes me think, what if this is all I'll ever have?"

Most of this was probably just the wine talking, but Jane could detect genuine pain behind it. He knew what it was like to be lonely, and he certainly understood her motivation for taking refuge in the CBI. He'd been doing the same thing for years. But the thought of brilliant, vibrant Teresa Lisbon being relegated to the kind of life that he was living was almost more than he could bear.

She didn't deserve to feel alienated by the world. She deserved someone who made sure she knew how special she was. Someone who would treat her like a princess. Someone who would appreciate every single day how lucky they were just to have her in their life. And he wanted to be the one to give her those things.

"You know what you have to do?" he asked. "You've just got to stop thinking so much. Give that brain of yours a break and shut it off once in a while."

"Because that's so easy."

"I'm not saying it's easy, but you're managing OK right now," he said. "How is relaxing here any different to relaxing at home?"

"I guess it's because you're here," she said. "You're a good distraction."

"Well at least you think I'm good for something," he smiled.

"You're good at plenty of stuff Jane," she said, returning the smile. "But it all tends to be outweighed by your big mouth."

He laughed quietly and drained the rest of his wine.

"Care for another?" he asked as he got up.

"The bottle's empty."

"Sure, but we haven't even opened the second one yet. With compliments of John Slater."

She sighed. "Just how many people were in this poker game?"

He shrugged. "A few."

"And how much money did you win?" she asked, for the second time tonight.

"Enough," he said as he reached for the empty plates.

"Well thanks for being so clear about that," she said, sarcastically. "It's really annoying when people give cryptic answers to simple questions." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes, I know," he said smoothly. "Don't you just hate that?" Beaming at her, he disappeared into the kitchen.

When he returned, he reached for her glass to refill it.

"Just half," she instructed him as he began to pour.

"Why not a full one?" he asked.

"Minelli will be calling for a progress check tomorrow morning," she said. "Don't want to be hung over while talking to my boss. Not a good idea."

"Ah, see you're doing it again, woman. Thinking too much about what's going to happen next instead of what's happening right now. You need to go with your impulses a bit more."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know why I think you feel unhappy with your life?" he asked. "You spend too much time planning and not enough time doing. You're not living."

"I never said I wasn't satisfied with my life," she said indignantly. "I love my job, you know that…"

"Satisfied' isn't the same as 'happy' Lisbon," he said.

"And what would you know about it?" she shot back, a little more forcefully then she'd intended. "You're not happy."

"You're right," he said calmly. "I'm miserable. I face every day wondering why I should even bother, and every day I give myself the same answer. I bother because I want justice for my family, and I bother because I don't want to lose the only two bright spots in my life."

"Your couch, and irritating everybody you meet to the point of madness?" she suggested.

"Close, but no," he said, smiling. "It's actually the team…and you."

"But that doesn't make any sense," she protested. "_I'm_ on the team too."

"I know you are," he said. "But between us, you're sort of my favourite." She felt herself go red again, but if he asked, she'd blame it on the wine. "Don't tell anyone that though," he added. "It'd break Cho's heart if he found out."

She snorted. "You're hilarious."

"I'm not joking," he said. "Under that frosty demeanour beats the heart of a fragile, insecure man."

The snort turned into full-out laughter. "Make sure I'm there when you run that little theory by him, won't you?" His laughter mingled in with hers as they thought about that. Cho, their Cho, all gooey on the inside like a soft-centred chocolate? As if.

"Don't worry Jane," she said after a while once they were able to breathe normally again. "Your secret's safe with me."

There was something about the way she smiled at him, and how the dim lighting cast shadows across her face that made her even more irresistible than usual. Or maybe it was just the after effects of the wine that had made his inhibitions somewhat diminish. In either case, suddenly it didn't seem like such a dangerous thing to let his emotions run away with him. With the liquid courage he'd just consumed egging him on, he found himself reaching for her hand. She looked surprised, but allowed it.

"What are you doing?" she asked, in a whisper.

"Acting on impulse," he replied, as their fingers intertwined. The other hand he placed on the side of her face, and this time he didn't hesitate to bring their lips together. He'd been waiting long enough.

* * *

After years of longing and desire and suppressing his feelings because it wasn't professional, or safe, and because it was just plain _wrong_, he kissed her. Slowly and tenderly, taking his time, and putting every bit of the love he had for her into the kiss, as if that would make her miraculously understand.

The bad news was that she didn't kiss him back. The good news was that she hadn't pushed him away either. He was heartened by that. If it were up to him, he'd keep kissing her all night, but he knew that he had to slow it down a little. Baby steps, he reminded himself.

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed but somehow, some way, he managed to stop. He had to give her a chance to come to terms with it, before he blew it completely.

When he pulled away, he opened his eyes to see her with an expression of shock on her face.

"I confess that wasn't exactly just a fleeting impulse," he said. "Ever since we kissed at the CBI the other day, I've been wanting to do it again."

It seemed she had lost the ability to speak, so he took advantage of her silence to go on.

"Ever since the day I met you, I knew there was something between us. You and me, we've always had a spark, I always thought so. And then when we kissed, I was sure of it. And I think you felt it too."

She awkwardly averted her gaze from his, which he interpreted as her agreement.

"I haven't felt anything like this since my wife," he said. "I don't want to feel this way, it's like I'm disrespecting her memory or something, but the point is I do, and I don't want to keep pretending that I don't. It's tiring, lying to myself all the time."

Still, she said nothing.

"Come on, I'm baring my soul here," he said, only half-kiddingly. "You have to say something."

"We can't do this," she said, so quietly that he almost missed it.

There seemed to be a celebration going on inside his head at these words. What ever she said, she hadn't denied that there was something there for her too. There was hope yet.

"Why not?" he asked. "It's what we both want isn't it? That's reason enough for me."

"Jane we work together," she said. "You know the rules about employees dating. We can't do it. And besides, could you imagine us as a couple? All we'd do is fight even more than we do now."

"Sure, but we'd also get to have lots of hot make-up sex to settle our many disagreements, rather than just ignoring each other for a few days, like we usually do."

"You're not listening to me! What we feel isn't the issue here. It's against the rules, and that's all there is to it."

"No the issue is that I have feelings for you, you have feelings for me, and the longer we keep ignoring it, the worse it's going to get."

"We're adults Jane, we'll deal with it," she said, using her personal this-topic-of-conversation-is-now-closed voice, that she usually reserved for when he dared to ask questions about her past or her personal life.

But the way he saw it, whether she liked it or not, she wasn't his boss at the moment. They were partners on this, and he didn't feel like ending the discussion just yet. Maybe she was hoping that he was just joking around, and that if she just refused to acknowledge the issue for long enough, he'd drop it. Well, it was time to put an end to that notion.

"Do you have any good reason why we shouldn't?" he asked.

"Do _you_ have any good reason why we _should_?"

Obviously he hadn't made himself clear when he told her that he wanted her. Or maybe he just needed to be a little more proactive.

So he kissed her again. And to his great satisfaction, this time she kissed him back.

* * *

Kissing Jane wasn't anything like Lisbon had imagined. It was better. Every other man she'd ever kissed paled in comparison, for no other man had kissed her like this. None of the others had taken the trouble to find the exact spot on her neck that made her moan with pleasure. None of the others had teased her by pulling their lips away just when she wanted the kiss to deepen more so that she made a small noise of protest and pulled him back to her again. None of the others had held her as close as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And none of the others had made her feel as though the earth had stopped turning, like time itself had simply frozen.

Somehow she'd ended up on top of him, lying on the couch in a tangle of limbs. Her top had ridden up at the back and she could feel his hands running slowly back and forth over the exposed skin there. The more he touched her, the more she wanted him to, the places he caressed feeling hot and more alive than they'd done in years. She wanted that delicious heat everywhere.

His hands roamed further up her back, sending shivers up her spine. In response, she kissed him with more passion than ever before, not pausing to draw breath until every last bit of oxygen had been expelled from her lungs, leaving them both gasping for air.

Suddenly bold, her fingers went to work on the buttons at the top of his shirt. When they refused to give way immediately, she pulled the fabric apart instead. Her fingers fell eagerly on his now-bare chest. She was pleased to discover that he reacted just as much to her touch as she had done to his. It wouldn't have been fair for him to drive her so crazy if she couldn't return the favour.

"Sexy as that was, you just destroyed one of my favourite shirts," he panted.

"And what are you going to do about it?" she asked, low and husky.

"Payback."

And all of a sudden, she couldn't think as he found the sweet spot on her neck again and concentrated on kissing it. It felt so good, it was near impossible to keep from crying out. And then when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, his lips captured hers again.

But then her fingers brushed against something unexpected, round, hard and metallic. His wedding ring. On the chain she had given him. And then reality came back. They were not Rachel and William Hayne, legally married couple. They were Teresa Lisbon and Patrick Jane, work colleagues, with too much alcohol in their systems, about to do something they would regret.

She stopped kissing him, and peeled his arms from around her. As soon as they parted company with her body, she felt cold.

"What's wrong?" he asked, as she pushed herself up off him.

"What are we doing?" she said. "I'm your boss, you're my consultant. You're still grieving for your wife, and here I am taking advantage of you. What kind of a sick person am I?"

Shaking his head a little to rid himself of the post-make out session haze, Jane forced his brain to engage.

"Two things Lisbon," he said. "Firstly, feel free to take advantage of me in that manner anytime you like. And secondly, _I_ started that one, it's entirely my fault."

"I shouldn't have drunk so much of that wine."

"You're thinking again," he said, leaning towards her again, aiming for her collarbone which was now visible thanks to her dishevelled top. If he could just get her to shut up, then they could get back to where they were...he wasn't even _close_ to finished finding out what made her moan.

"No!" she said, slapping him away. If she was going to hang on to this small shred of self-control she had, she couldn't let him get near her.

"OK, OK," he said, recognising defeat and shuffling further back along the couch to give her the space she seemed to want. "Well at least you can't pretend anymore that we don't have chemistry."

"This isn't funny! I'm going to bed."

As quick as lightning, she was on her feet and on the way out the door and up the stairs.

* * *

Jane shut off the lamp, and settled back down on the couch, where only minutes before she'd been lying on him, letting him do things to her that he'd only ever dreamed about before. It had been a little slice of heaven on Earth.

He'd expected her to freak out at some point, but why couldn't they have had a little longer? Fate had given him a shot with her, and then cruelly ripped it away from him in one fell swoop.

* * *

Upstairs, Lisbon lay in bed trying to think of anything other than the fact she'd just fallen victim to not one, but _two _of the seven deadly sins. Gluttony (for drinking all that goddamn wine) and Lust (self-explanatory.)

But if she was going to hell tonight, then what a way to go.

* * *

**Come on, you didn't think I was going to let Lisbon give it up completely on a couch, under the influence of alcohol? She's got too much class for that. **

**I know there's no case development in this chapter, but I have a feeling I'll be forgiven. Am I right?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Greetings to any and all of the readers I still have left after my ridiculously long absence. I am so sorry about the wait. My muse apparently decided to go on strike and so I've spent a vast majority of the time just staring a blank screen and waiting for the words to come…needless to say, inspiration didn't strike for a long time. This always happens to me around chapter eight or nine of a multichapter. I've got no idea why.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter.**

**A big thank you to krolinette who PM'd me to give me a nudge of encouragement. This one's for you.**

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognisable and probably never will, unless I become a millionaire tomorrow, which I somewhat doubt.**

* * *

Lisbon woke the next morning, nestled under the covers, head buried in the soft kiss of the pillow. The sun was streaming in, and the only sound was the soft whispering of cars passing by on the street outside. She felt warm, and comfortable and at peace with the world.

It lasted about three seconds.

Because now she was facing something that everybody experienced at some point in their lives. The Morning After The Night Before. This was usually the part when people quietly grabbed their clothes from the floor, and tiptoed out the door in order to avoid the awkwardness with the guy who'd looked real good under the dim lights of the bar, but now under the less forgiving sunlight, turned out to be pot-bellied with a bald spot. Once you were out the door, you were home free. Never had to see them again.

But when the person in question was someone you saw every day, someone you worked with, someone you were currently_ living with_ in fact, the situation became a bit more complicated.

Add in the fact that the person happened to be your consultant who you'd been secretly lusting after for longer than you'd care to admit. Your gorgeous, (but heartbroken) intelligent (but internally conflicted,) charming (yet constantly haunted by the ghosts of his past,) consultant. It was a recipe for disaster.

She supposed she should be proud that she'd had the foresight to stop things last night before they got out of hand. She went through it all in her head, like she was watching a movie.

They'd drunk wine. They'd talked. He'd kissed her. They'd talked some more. He'd kissed her again. She'd kissed him back. They'd made out a little (OK, _a lot_.) She'd literally ripped his clothes off (well, his shirt at least.)

But they hadn't slept together.

Because of the ring. His wedding ring, the real one he kept around his neck, not the fake one that sat on his finger. The symbol of his lost love, of the life that had been snatched away from him.

It had felt almost adulterous, for all intents and purposes like she was kissing a married man. Like she was just the mistress, a random pair of lips to kiss, a random warm body next to his, there to fill in time until he went back to the one he truly loved.

And she hadn't even cared. For those few wonderful minutes all that had been worth noticing was his arms around her, his fingers caressing her skin, his lips on hers.

This scared her.

Such a sudden and total loss of control was something Lisbon was not used to. It was like her emotions had taken her over, her most primal desires (that she usually kept well-hidden under a mask of cool professionalism) brought into sharp relief. Her mind, usually searching for reason and meaning in everything she did, totally blank but for the want, the craving, to have him near her for as long as humanly possible.

Thank God for the ring. If not for that physical deterrent, she knew now she would not have been able to stop. They would have had sex, and she would have woken up this morning with him in her bed (or maybe they wouldn't have bothered to move from the couch, things had been progressing pretty fast.) And nothing would ever be the same again.

She wasn't ready for that, and she didn't think she ever would be. She'd never been able to adapt well to change of any kind and something like the enormity of starting a relationship with Jane was staggering, If she went down that path for better or for worse, it would impact on every aspect of her life. And if things ended badly…

The man was damaged goods, a ticking time bomb. And she didn't want to be standing too close when that bomb exploded. She'd already gotten too attached to him as it was. She was too used to seeing him lazing around on the office couch, too fond of his cheeky smile, too accustomed to bending rules that she would normally have followed to the letter to get him out of whatever messes he managed to get himself into.

It was already going to hurt enough when she lost him to Red John (which she would, one way or another.) She didn't think she could handle him breaking her heart as well.

As much as she would've liked to stay in bed forever, so as to avoid the point of confrontation, she knew she would have to get up and face the music sooner or later. Might as well get it over and done with.

As she sat up, she noticed something white lying on her bedside table. She picked it up and found it was a piece of paper with Jane's handwriting on it.

_To my partner in work, life and debauchery,_

_You were still sleeping when I got up so I've gone for a stroll so I don't wake you. I know this is the first time you've slept properly since we've been here. I'm glad. You needed it._

_Fresh coffee's in the coffeemaker. I took the liberty of making it extra-strong this morning as I think you're going to need more of an energy boost than usual._

_When I get back, we should talk._

_Jane._

* * *

Jane sat by himself in a booth of a diner a few streets away. There was a steaming cup of tea beside him (which he had only got to make the waitress stop coming over to his table and ask to take his order, batting her false eyelashes) but he had never been less in the mood for his favourite drink. All the tea in China wouldn't have been enough to even take the edge off how exhausted and listless he felt this morning.

It had taken him a long time to fall asleep after the…events that had transpired last night. When she'd fled from the living room he'd seriously considered going after her, simply refusing to allow her to end the moment he'd been craving so badly. But he'd known in the back of his mind that he'd already pushed her further than he'd ever expected, and that he should quit while he was ahead.

He'd listened to her walking around upstairs, heard water running, and saw lights flick on and off. Even though she was only a few feet above him, he felt further away from her than he ever had before. Something big had changed in the dynamic of their relationship; they were not the same people they had been before. They could not just pick up and go on with their lives as though it had never happened.

He had spent so much time desiring her and wanting her but never having her. Dreaming, and imagining and wishing but never acting on it, because he'd known he shouldn't. It would make things too complicated; there were too many other things to consider.

Like the fact that their jobs were at stake. Or the fact that a serial killer was haunting his every step. Or the fact that he hadn't been intimate with a woman in any way since his wife.

His self-imposed celibacy had become the norm for him now, so much so that he'd forgotten what it was like to be physically close to someone, to hold them in your arms, to feel their heart beating. It was a side effect of being more or less married to a ghost for the best part of eight years.

He'd use the ring as an excuse to turn women down when they approached him at bars. He allowed himself to be shunted around from department to department in the CBI. He kept the world at arm's length, never allowing anybody to get too close to him, never wanting to present Red John with a new target, somebody else that could potentially be taken from him. If there was nothing he loved, he had nothing to lose.

And then Lisbon had come along, and turned his world upside down. Unlike her colleagues, she refused to give up on him, didn't request a transfer, and wouldn't allow him to shut himself off from her. Sure, she'd rant, rave, scream, curse him to hell and back again, but she wouldn't let him go. And so, inevitably, with all his usual escape routes cut off he had ended up doing the one thing he had sworn never to do again: he had fallen for her.

He'd known that it was happening, even though he'd tried his best to make it stop. Suddenly his constant guilt for Angela began to take a back seat whenever Lisbon was around. He began to wonder what it would be like to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to her. He found excuses to touch her, even if it was just the slightest graze of fingers as he passed her a cup of coffee.

For the first time since the death of his family, he'd truly wanted something other than revenge. But he forced himself not to act on it, not wanting to put her in danger, not willing to have to face the reality that this might not be some fleeting infatuation but actual, true feelings.

Then, this assignment had happened. Being forced to spend nearly every minute of every day with her had steadily worn down his resolve. Nowhere to run, and nothing to focus on but the beautiful woman beside him, who every day had found some new way in which to tempt him, whether it be slow-dancing with him in a sexy black dress, or bursting into the bathroom in shorts so tiny they made her legs look like they went on forever, or even just bickering with him as usual over breakfast, with her hair all mussed up and messy.

He'd tried so hard not to let himself be taken in by this woman, hypnotised by those bewitching green eyes.

But now it was too late. It was done, and they couldn't take it back. And now, instead of alleviating all that pent-up sexual tension, kissing her had served no purpose other than to make things even worse. Now he'd had a taste of exactly what he was missing out on, all he wanted was more.

It wasn't supposed to have felt so good. Thoughts of his wife should have been eating him up at the very idea of being with someone else. His mind should not have gone blissfully blank and he shouldn't have felt...the only word for it was well…

Happy.

He'd felt happy. It was an emotion that he hadn't felt for a long time. He'd never thought he could feel that way again, doomed to being miserable for the rest of his life with no love, no laughter, no joy. He'd never even considered the fact that he might be able to feel _good_ again, to want someone's company purely because he liked them, and not for what they might be able to do for him.

Like it or not, rightly or wrongly, the truth of the matter was unavoidable.

He loved her. It was a huge spanner in the works for his plans for Red John, and it would throw both of their lives into disarray, but despite all this, he loved her. More than he'd ever imagined possible. And now there were only two things he could do.

He could beat the feelings down again, keep his mouth shut, and try to keep his distance from her and then eventually have to find a way to endure the gut-wrenching agony of seeing her fall for someone else. He didn't think he could do it, if truth be told. It had been hard enough watching her joking around with Nick a few days ago.

Or alternatively, he could bite the bullet, man up, and tell her exactly how he felt about her. Risky, to be sure, and he stood to lose a lot if it didn't turn out the way he wanted. The close friendship that he and Lisbon had would be gone. No more late nights at the office. No more trust falls. No more support when he did something the CBI rulebook didn't exactly approve of. And those were just the little things.

No more partnership. No more best friend.

And then of course, there was the big one.

Potentially, no more Lisbon.

If he chose to tell her how he felt and it backfired, they'd never be able to fix their relationship. He could easily cost himself not only the woman he loved, but his best friend, and confidante all in one day.

Neither option was exactly appealing to him. But he couldn't very well hide out in this diner indefinitely either. Sooner or later, he'd have to face her.

But what should he do? Play it safe, and be content with adoring her from afar? Or lay all his cards on the table and risk losing it all?

Simply put, he was screwed.

He took a sip of the tea. It was now stone cold.

* * *

It was nearly eleven o clock now, and still there was no sign of Jane. This must be one heck of a morning stroll thought Lisbon to herself as she ate a piece of toast. Or maybe he was just like her, wondering what exactly they were going to say when they were forced into seeing each other again.

Two empty wine glasses sat next to the couch, silent reminders of last night. She remembered him kissing her neck, nibbling at her bottom lip. She recalled his touch as vividly as if it had been only moments ago. The sensation of his fingers on her skin alone had made her feel as good as any other man had ever made her feel in bed.

Of course, maybe that just meant she'd been sleeping with the wrong kinds of men. But in the back of her mind she couldn't help thinking that if last night's make-out session had counted as an erotic highlight of her life, what would happen if she and Jane ever took the next step, and had a go at the real thing?

The red-blooded woman in her who hadn't sex in an embarrassingly long time, desperately wanted to find out. It stood to reason that Jane, so observant in reading her body language in their everyday life, would be equally, if not more, quick on the uptake in bed, and would learn fast exactly what she liked.

As she felt herself slipping into one of her more salacious fantasies, the logical Senior Agent in her spoke up. She had to stop thinking about this. In the long term, nothing good could come out of sleeping with Jane. Even if he turned out to be the best sex of her life (and if last night had been anything to go by, that was certainly a possibility) there'd still be his wife, Red John, the threat to their careers.

And there'd still be the fact that it could never _be_ just sex between them. He'd told her last night that he had feelings for her, and however vehemently she denied it, she had feelings for him too. Any relationship they had could never be purely physical, they were already too close, both mentally and emotionally. Somebody would be bound to get hurt.

She walked into the living room to pick up the wine glasses so she could wash them in the sink. Why was it that she seemed to always be attracted to men who could only make her life harder? Why couldn't she go for sweet, smart, available men with no emotional baggage? More specifically, what was it about Jane that made her want him so much? She'd never felt this strongly about anyone, not even her past boyfriends.

Maybe it was the fact that she couldn't have him that made her desire him so. The idea of being able to fantasize and imagine what it might be like to be with him, without any chance of it being able to be ruined by reality was kind of nice.

But the trouble with that was that fantasies were a poor substitute to a strong pair of arms when you were feeling lonely. And all the dreams in the world wouldn't be enough to satisfy you when all you wanted was to feel someone else's skin against your own.

It just wasn't fair. It would be so much easier if she had fallen for somebody else. But unfortunately the heart wanted what the heart wanted, and however unwise it might be, hers had set itself on Patrick Jane.

She looked through the window up at the blue, cloudless sky.

Someone up there must really hate her.

* * *

The waitress paused by Jane's table as she passed.

"Something wrong with your tea, hon? "she asked him, fluttering her false eyelashes again and shooting him what he supposed was her idea of a winning smile.

"Oh no," he said. "Just left it too long that's all."

"Yeah you looked like you were doing some serious thinking. I've been told I'm a good listener, you know if you want to vent a little," she added, hopefully.

He wanted to laugh at the thought. He'd need at least a year to explain all of his personal problems, and by the looks of her, this young woman probably didn't have an attention span of much longer than five minutes.

"No, that's all right," he said, forcing a smile. "I'd hate to trouble you."

"Oh it's no trouble at all," she said eagerly. "I've got a break in a little while, you can tell me all about it."

"No thank you," he said, a little more firmly this time. "This is something I need to figure out on my own."

Her face fell. "Well how about I get you another tea instead?" she offered. "On the house."

"That would be lovely," he agreed, anything just to make her leave him alone.

Beaming at him again, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and flounced away.

Before he had time to enjoy his solitude however, someone else spoke.

"Hey there handsome."

He looked up to see Annabelle Beckett standing in the spot the waitress had just vacated. Despite the earliness of the hour, she was wearing make-up heavy enough that he thought she would need a trowel to scrape it all off, and was laden with so much jewellery that he was surprised that she wasn't stooping over from the weight of it.

Even as she smiled at him, he could see her eyes flickering in all directions around the diner. He felt sure that she was looking for Lisbon.

"Good morning Annabelle," he greeted her pleasantly, though wanting nothing more than for everybody just to go away and leave him to his brooding.

"What are you doing sitting here all by yourself?" asked Annabelle, apparently having decided that 'Rachel' was nowhere in the vicinity. "Where's your wife?" She practically spat the last word.

"Having a lie-in," he said shortly. "I didn't want to bother her, so I came here instead."

He thought of how she'd looked when he'd walked in to put the note on her bedside table, curled up on her side, with the early morning sunlight shining on her hair and those oh-so-tempting lips practically begging him to lean down and kiss them.

He knew that for his own sake, he should try not to covet her so much, but by God, she made it hard.

"Well," said Annabelle, now positively beaming. "Her loss is my gain, isn't it? Do you mind if I join you?"

Before Jane had chance to answer, Annabelle threw herself into the booth beside him.

The waitress returned, carrying a fresh cup of tea, which she set down in front of Jane with yet another glowing smile.

"Here you are," she said. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"Actually there is," piped up Annabelle. "I'll have a short stack of blueberry pancakes with the maple syrup on the side and half-strength skinny latte with one and a half sugars, well stirred. And it had better all be hot when it gets here," she snapped at the waitress, without so much as looking at her.

The waitress scowled as she scribbled down the order on her notepad. "Will that be all?" she asked, with a bite of annoyance in her voice.

"Wait a minute," Annabelle ordered her brusquely. She turned to Jane. "Do you want anything to eat, Will?" she asked, suddenly all sugary sweetness again.

Jane shook his head, and with one last scathing look at Annabelle, the waitress left.

Annabelle's cell phone rang, and she stepped outside to answer it. Jane watched her through the window. With her blonde hair and ever-present smile, most people would never suspect that Annabelle had such a spiteful personality. She reminded him of himself a little, sunny and upbeat on the surface, but a seething mass of resentment within.

Lisbon wasn't like that. With her, what you saw was what you got. There was no hidden agenda, no game-playing. She was, as he had always said, translucent. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She was honest, genuine, a straight shooter. She didn't waste time trying to be something she wasn't. It was one of the many things he had always liked about her.

In his work at the carnival, and as a psychic, he had been surrounded by lies and deception every day. Even now, at the CBI with every case he saw people concealing things, keeping secrets, putting on facades. Lisbon was different, a refreshing change for him, an assurance that there were still good people in the world.

Honest, intelligent, brave and true, she was everything he could ever possibly ask for, the second chance at love he never thought he would ever find, or deserve. He twisted his ring on it's chain. This more than anything else, was what was holding them back from a future together. It had been what had stopped them last night, essentially what had been stopping him from making a move for years now, the fear of how much he would have to sacrifice in order to have her for his own.

The door opened and Annabelle returned.

"Sorry about that," she purred as she sat back down. "My boyfriend. Honestly, sometimes I don't know why I even date him; he's so possessive. Always wants to know where I am, who I'm with…it's like he doesn't trust me at all."

Jane silently agreed with the unknown boyfriend. If Annabelle threw herself at everyone in the same way she'd been throwing herself at him ever since they'd met, he probably had excellent reason to mistrust his girlfriend.

"Trust is so important in a relationship," said Annabelle. "Don't you agree?"

"Absolutely."

"Rachel must trust you a lot," remarked Annabelle as she slid over on the seat until she was right next to him. "If you were my man, I wouldn't let you out of my sight. And I certainly wouldn't upset you enough to make you want to hide out in a diner, where some other woman might snap you up."

She smiled coyly at him. "Some women just don't know how to treat a man," she went on. "They just don't appreciate what they've got."

She laid a hand on his leg and squeezed.

Jane quickly removed her hand . "Annabelle…stop."

"But why?" she asked, looking both surprised and disappointed. "I could tell as soon as I met her that wife of yours wasn't giving you what you need. Come on, you deserve a little fun." She leant towards him for a kiss, but he turned his head away.

"That's enough Annabelle," he said.

"Oh come on," she persisted. "Rachel doesn't have to know. It'll be our little secret."

"I said no," he said. "I can't do it to her."

"And why not?" asked Annabelle, looking highly affronted at the rejection.

"Because she's a good person, the best I've ever known," said Jane. "And because I can't stand to lose her. And because I love her."

Annabelle said something in response, but Jane wasn't even listening to her. He was too busy marvelling at what he'd just done.

Because he loved her.

He'd said it. Out loud. For the first time since Angela.

Because he loved her.

This made it real. It was out in the open now. Not just 'feelings' anymore, but love. Head-over-heels, madly, totally in love.

Oh no.

He got up from the table just as the waitress arrived with Annabelle's order.

"I have to go," he said to Annabelle, who was now glaring resentfully at him. "And I'm going to pretend that none of this ever happened. I suggest you do the same."

Leaving her fuming at the table, he left the diner.

* * *

As she rinsed out the coffeemaker, Lisbon heard the sound she'd been dreading all morning. The doorknob turned. Her heart began to pound. This was it. The moment of truth.

"Lisbon?" came Jane's voice. "Where are you?"

"Kitchen," she called back, hating the way her voice shook.

She heard his footsteps getting closer and closer, and then suddenly there he was, framed in the doorway. But he didn't stay there. Instead he walked right up to her. She just had time to register, with the greatest surprise, the lustful gleam in his eyes, before he took the coffeepot out of her hands and pulled her to him.

And then suddenly she was kissing him again, even though she'd promised herself never to repeat the mistakes of last night. And her mind was going fuzzy again as she melted into his kiss, just as she'd known she would.

And then he stopped. He pulled away from her, and they just stood there, panting for a few seconds, staring at each other.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, when she had gotten her breath back.

He sighed with contentment. "God," he said. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

"Have you completely lost your mind?" she asked, in amazement.

"I wouldn't go quite that far, but I've certainly been confused," he said.

"About what, precisely?"

"Last night was supposed to be a mistake," he said. "I always expected to feel like I was cheating on my wife. Kissing another woman was supposed to feel wrong."

He paused. "OK," she said. "So what's the confusing part?"

"It didn't feel wrong. It felt right. Kissing you was the most wonderful thing that has happened to me in years. For the first time in longer than I can recall, I wasn't thinking about my wife or Red John."

"And?"

"It wasn't supposed to be like that! I don't deserve to feel good again, not after what I did. I should punished for it every day!"

Lisbon didn't have the faintest idea what she should say to this, so she kept quiet.

"Am I a bad person?" he asked her. "Am I selfish for being happy when my wife and child can never be happy again?"

Never before had Lisbon seen Jane so out of control. Usually so good at playing his cards close to his chest, to see him strung out like this was shocking and a little bit frightening. She adopted the calming voice she used on out-of-control suspects.

"It was a mistake," she said firmly. "We'd drunk too much, and got carried away. That's it. You're not a bad person; you just made a bad decision. We both did, but we've learned from it, and it'll never happen again. OK?"

To her relief, he started to calm, his breathing slowed. As if she'd ever needed any more proof that the two of them together was a bad idea; the very thought had sent Jane into a near nervous-breakdown. As she looked at him, she noticed how pallid his skin looked, the dark circles under his eyes, even darker than usual.

"Did you sleep last night?" she asked him. "Have you slept at _all_ this week?"

He shook his head. "Not really."

"Go and lie down," she ordered him. "Go have a nap, you'll feel better when you do."

She watched him amble from the kitchen and fall onto the couch.

"No, you're not going to sleep properly on that couch," she said. "Go on upstairs, take the bed."

"Are you sure?"

"Go."

She listened to him shuffling up the stairs. As she did she uttered a silent prayer. They had to get this case solved soon, before it killed them both.

* * *

When he got upstairs, Jane collapsed onto the bed, noticing that the sheets smelled like the apple shampoo she'd been using all week.

This was all her fault, he decided. Why did she have to be so wonderful? Why did her eyes have to sparkle when she smiled and why did she have to have that great dry wit that never failed to make him laugh? And why did she have to be so beautiful?

Why did she have to make him fall in love with her?

* * *

**I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. It ended up in a way that I never expected. Weird how stories take on a life of their own. Well I hope you didn't hate it and you didn't get to the end and be all "Seriously, I waited a month for THAT?"**

**I know, still no case, but there will be in the next chapter. Cross my heart.**

**Merry Christmas and a happy new year to all of you!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Still isn't mine.**

**Rating: T**

**You guys are wonderful to be so patient with me, and my very long gaps between updates. As a sign of my gratitude, this chapter is quite a bit longer than the others, so I'm hoping that'll score me some brownie points.**

* * *

In all honesty, Lisbon had been shocked when Jane had actually heeded her words and gone upstairs to take his nap. He really must have been exhausted, for he'd barely bothered to fight her on it at all, just meekly obeyed. But in spite of this, Lisbon had still expected Jane to come barrelling back down the stairs less than half an hour later, citing that he was perfectly refreshed now when it was quite clear that he hadn't slept a wink. It was a stunt he often pulled at the CBI.

Lisbon knew perfectly well that when he was sprawled on his couch in the middle of the day with his eyes closed, the picture of innocence, that the chances of his actually being asleep were practically nil. She imagined that he probably just lay there and listened to everything going on around him, forming opinions, making judgements, his mind ticking over with information. It was like he was spying on them all, in a way, by lulling them into the illusion that they could speak freely around him while all the while he eavesdropped and took it all in, filed it all away, ready to be brought up later at the opportune moment.

She listened for any signs of life from upstairs. None. She hoped that meant he had really gone to sleep, and wasn't just lying around on the bed, brooding. She was doing enough of that for the both of them at the moment. His odd behaviour ever since he'd arrived back had been plaguing her mind ever since she'd sent him upstairs.

It was almost as though he were two different people, kissing her with such purpose and passion one minute, and then the next, freaking out like a little boy who knew he'd just done something wrong. When he'd appeared in the kitchen doorway he walked towards her like he couldn't get to her fast enough, but then after he'd broken off the kiss, it had been like he couldn't get _away_ from her fast enough.

She just couldn't understand how he could make her feel so wanted and loved, and then so alienated in the space of about thirty seconds.

But that was Jane all over, turning his moods and desires on and off so erratically that it was impossible for even him to keep up, so God only knew how she was expected to. Damn the man for being so confusing.

She let out a long; low sigh as her cell phone rang.

"Lisbon," she answered, in a clipped tone.

"Tessie," Nick's warm voice came down the phone line. "How's my favourite CBI agent this afternoon?"

Despite her exasperation with her consultant, Lisbon managed a tiny smile at this comment.

"What are you talking about?" she said. "I'm the only CBI agent you know."

"Exactly. So you've got no competition."

"I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."

Nick chuckled.

"As always, Tessie, you pull no punches. And much as I'd love to keep on chatting, this isn't purely a social call."

"It isn't?" asked Lisbon, noting the change from his pleasant tone of voice, to the more official one she herself used for 'business' conversations.

"Unfortunately, no. See, the thing is my superiors are on my back for an update on the progress. Raid goes down ten days from now; they're getting a little anxious for intel. So they asked, well ordered really, me to give you a call. See how things are going."

"Right," Lisbon said, riffling through her mind for excuses. Of course, she did have a reason for the lack of progress, but she had a sneaking suspicion that "I've been busy fighting with/making out with my consultant" might not cut it, somehow.

"So," Nick pressed. "How are things going?"

"Honestly?" said Lisbon. "Not as well as I'd like."

"That doesn't sound like you, Tess," said Nick, sounding concerned. "What's going on?"

More than anything, Lisbon wanted to tell him. She wanted to unload all the weirdness and awkwardness and confusion of the last few days onto someone else, if only to clear a little space in her head. Her mind was so crowded with conflicting thoughts about the 'Jane situation' it was like she could think of nothing else.

And Nick was one of her oldest, most trusted friends. She'd always been able to lean on him, back at the academy. Surely that would still hold true now, even all these years later.

But she knew she couldn't. This was her mess, her problem to solve. She'd allowed her personal feelings for Jane to interfere with her work, and now she just had to deal with the consequences. She had no business dragging Nick into her screwed-up personal life.

"Nothing's wrong," she lied. "It's just taking a little longer than I expected."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," she said, deliberately colouring her voice with a confidence she did not feel.

"Well, in that case," said Nick, though he still sounded doubtful. "The guys upstairs have asked that I pass on a friendly little reminder to you, Tessie. Time's ticking on. We need results. Soon."

"I hear you," she said. "And I promise we'll get something soon. We've been mixing with the locals, making contacts, it won't be long now."

"I hope so," he said. "I'll call again in a day or two, assuming I don't hear from you first."

"Sure."

"OK." There was a pause, in which she thought that Nick might be thinking of saying something else, so she quickly sought to counteract it.

"Talk to you later, Nick."

"Take care, Tess."

She ended the call, relieved.

* * *

Jane opened his eyes, with a curious heavy sensation in his head. It seemed that his usually inexhaustible energy supplies had finally given out on him, and he had actually managed to fall asleep. Sure, it had only been a short nap, but it was better than the half-hour's sleep he'd managed to get last night, and certainly better than nothing.

His mind seemed to be taking a little longer than usual to wake up this afternoon. He was having some difficulties remembering how he had come to be here, in Lisbon's bed. He was sure of that much at least, as it was the only bed in the house.

He remembered the diner, Annabelle, coming home, taking Lisbon into his arms and kissing her (and if there were any justice in the world, he would never, ever forget that part.) Everything after that was kind of a blur. He remembered feeling immensely guilty about something, the concern in Lisbon's eyes, her telling him to go get some sleep.

He pulled himself gingerly into a sitting position, yawning, glancing around the room. If he hadn't known better, he never would have suspected that Lisbon had been inhabiting this room for the better part of a week. All the surfaces were bare, no toiletries or personal items on the shelves or chest of drawers. There weren't even any of her pyjamas under the pillow. It was like she was trying to personalize the room as little as possible, making it clear to anybody who cared to know, as well as herself, that this situation was 100% temporary.

The only clue that she had been here at all was her suitcase, tucked neatly out of sight inside of the closet.

Typical Lisbon, everything in it's place, ordered and organised. Even here in the bedroom, her place of sanctuary in their strange new life, she was unable to fully unwind or relax. Her guard remained up, 24/7. Well, except for last night's little lapse…

He tried not to think about how good it had felt to have her in his arms, how well their bodies had fit together, and especially not about just how intoxicating those kisses had been. The idea of taking this nap was to try and clear his head, not to jumble it up even more.

Still, he could not think about it as much as he wanted, but it wouldn't take away the fact that the apple scent still lingered on the pillow even now.

Just as a reminder that he probably couldn't stop thinking about her for even one second.

He got up off the bed, sighing, and walked out the door.

* * *

All too soon, Lisbon heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Her awkward conversation with Nick was still weighing heavily on her mind, and now she had to deal with Jane as well.

He appeared around the door, and grinned at her.

"Good afternoon, my dearest."

In spite of her apprehension, she had to admit that she was pleased to see that big smile again, and to hear the typical charming, yet totally unprofessional greeting. The enforced downtime had done him good. His skin was no longer as pale, and his eyes had their cheeky twinkle back. In essence, he seemed more like himself again.

This was a relief. She'd spent the last few years doing her best to decipher the many moods of Patrick Jane. She'd learned how to ride out the phases of revengeful mania, to give him the space he needed during the periods of despondency that sometimes bordered on clinical depression, and how to keep her cool when he was being his usual pain-in-the-ass self. Together, they'd experienced both the highs and lows of police work, laughed together, planned together, and stuck together (to a point) in times of adversity. She'd always thought that she knew him better than most people, indeed she was something of a Patrick Jane authority around the office or as Minelli had once put it, she was 'the only person who could even begin to know how to handle that lunatic.'

But this morning, she'd seen a whole new side to him. She'd seen more of his guilt and uncertainty in those few short minutes than in years of having known him. It had unnerved her to see him so uncontrolled and vulnerable, his personal demons out in the open for all to see.

It was like she'd been given a glimpse into the innermost sanctum of Jane. And she hadn't liked what she saw.

Truth be told, she much preferred laughing, joking, asshole Jane to the version she'd experienced today. She knew how to handle the asshole version. When it came to this new type, she had nothing.

And besides, even after all this time, it never got any easier to see him in pain. Asshole or not, she still cared about him. A lot. Maybe even a little too much, by professional standards. She pushed that thought away. Just because she wanted him to be happy didn't mean they were crossing any kind of line. But to be on the safe side, she'd better not tell anyone that she'd always kind of liked the way his eyes lit up with mischief whenever he was up to something. It made her think there just might be hope for him yet.

But now, she just had to pray that he didn't want to continue their conversation from before.

"Hey Jane. Feeling better?"

"Much."

"That's good."

"How long was I out?" he asked, sitting in the chair across from her.

"About two hours. I was just about to make myself a coffee. Want some tea?"

"Yes, thanks."

She turned around to the coffeemaker with a growing sense of unease. Something about this situation just didn't sit right with her.

Jane apparently was thinking along the same lines.

"Is something wrong, Lisbon?" she heard him ask.

She didn't dare turn around just yet, lest he see the apprehension she was sure was all over her face.

"What makes you ask that?" she said as calmly as possible.

"Well, since when do you and I ever have quiet, polite conversations?" said Jane.

"There's always a first time," she said bringing the two cups over to the table, and handing one to him.

"I guess," he said. "But I don't think politeness really suits us. It's so boring." He grinned at her again.

"There are a lot of words that come to mind when I think of you Jane, but 'boring' isn't one of them."

"See, there you go, a thinly-veiled insult. That's more like it."

She couldn't quite suppress a smirk at this remark, and when Jane caught her eye the weird atmosphere in the room suddenly broke. She felt herself relax as they fell into their usual routine of bickering. She hadn't even realized how hard she'd been gripping her cup of coffee until she let it go.

"If that was too subtle for you, I could always just punch you in the nose instead," she offered, taking a sip of the coffee. "I could enjoy that."

"I'm sure you would, my dear. And all in the name of clarity for me, of course."

"Of course. That's just the kind of person I am."

There was a silence for a moment as they both sipped some more of their drinks.

"Nick called while you were sleeping," she said. She saw Jane's eyes narrow, the way they always did whenever Nick was mentioned.

"Oh really? And what exactly did Mr Sheens want with you? A booty call? You know, for old time's sake?"

She scowled at him. "How many times do I have to tell you? It isn't like that. Nick and I are friends. That's it. We don't see each other that way."

"Yeah right," he said rolling his eyes. "Lisbon, any man who can look at you and say he doesn't want you is one of two things: either an idiot, or a liar. Which is he?"

"Which are you?" she shot back.

"Trust me," he said, looking deep into her eyes. "When it comes to you, I'm not either of those things."

To her embarrassment, Lisbon felt herself beginning to soften. So she ordered herself to snap out of it. She absolutely refused to be drawn into this line of conversation. After his minor meltdown this morning, she had made a promise to herself never to discuss that, or last night with him ever again. It was in the past now. But all the same, it was probably best to change the topic sooner rather than later.

"Actually he wanted to know what was taking so long with the case," she said. "Apparently the Feds think we're not working fast enough."

"Oh come on," he said. "It takes time to build trust. And if these people don't trust us, we'll never convince them to tell us anything. What else do they want us to do?"

"I don't know," she said. "But if we don't come up with something soon, we could blow the entire operation."

She'd been worrying about that ever since she'd gotten off the phone with Nick. She didn't like not being able to finish what she'd started. If they couldn't figure out who was running this cocaine ring this whole assignment would turn out to be totally pointless, and she'd have had to endure all of these crazy mind games of Jane's for nothing. There had to be some other way that they could approach this, rather than waiting around in the hopes that somebody would let something slip. They had to get more proactive.

"There has to be something more we can do," she said to Jane. "We've still got that list of drug dealing hotspots that Minelli gave us. We need to visit a few, and see what we can find."

She retrieved the envelope from the drawer where she'd stashed it the day they arrived. She could hardly believe it had only been a few days ago. So much had happened since then, it felt like at least a month, or more.

One name right at the top of the list was familiar: Iridissia, a bar a couple of blocks away.

"Vicky Madress mentioned this place," she said, pointing to it. "She said her husband likes to hang out there."

"Oh yeah, I've heard of that," said Jane. "A few of the guys were talking about it at the poker game. Sounded like it was pretty exclusive."

"I can't believe we didn't put it all together sooner!" she said, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. "We could have had this case closed days ago!"

"Don't beat yourself up about it," said Jane soothingly. "What's done is done."

He sounded a lot calmer than he felt. He too, was surprised that it had taken this long to make the connection. He'd let everything that happened with Lisbon get in the way of what they were really here for. Indeed, he'd barely had a non-Lisbon related thought in days. Being this close to her, for this long was screwing around with his objectivity, playing havoc with his ability to concentrate on other things. He hadn't been able to compartmentalize the way he normally did.

He disliked feeling so out of control of his own mind. He'd forgotten that this was what being in love did to you. It had been a long time.

"It wouldn't have mattered if we had figured it out sooner," said Lisbon, irritably. "How the hell are we going to get in?"

Jane thought for a moment, and then slowly, a smile spread across his face.

"What are you smirking at?" she asked him, still fuming at herself for her own stupidity.

"I can get us in."

"Sure. What are you going to do? Hypnotize the bouncer?" she asked, scathingly. "Irritate him to death?"

He sighed, pointedly. "Well I _was_ just going to get our names on the list, but the whole murder by irritation thing sounds way more fun…"

"You have ten seconds to get to the point or so help me, when we get back to the CBI, that couch of yours is going to get acquainted with a pair of very sharp scissors." She glared at him to emphasize the point.

He smiled benignly at her, knowing that it would only make her more irritated.

"Can you hold that thought for just a minute? I just have to make a call."

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, feeling her eyes following the action.

"Five seconds Jane, or I swear to God that couch is history!"

"OK, OK, simmer down grumpy. I'll explain. One of the guys I was playing poker with was shall we say…betting beyond his means. He owes me."

"So?"

"Did I mention he's a part-owner of Iridissia?"

The sarcastic comment Lisbon had been preparing died on her lips.

"Are you serious?" she asked. Really, was it possible that they could be that lucky? But then again, she supposed she shouldn't be that surprised. She had never known anyone better than Jane at pulling a proverbial rabbit out of the hat.

He shook his head at her as he dialled the number. "Really, my dear," he said as he put the phone to his ear. "You need to have a little more faith in me."

After a few seconds, the call connected.

"Hank!" he exclaimed. "Will Hayne here, I'm sure you remember. Listen, I need you to do me a favour…"

* * *

Two hours later, Jane was to be found squinting into a mirror at the bottom of the staircase as he checked his tie was straight. He didn't often wear them, but tonight had called for him to trade his usually grey daywear for something a little more evening-appropriate.

There would be no room for error tonight. These people, if what he and Lisbon suspected of them were true, would almost certainly be on the alert for anything that wasn't as it should be. They had to blend in with the crowd and that meant dressing to impress.

From his psychic days, he knew enough about mixing with the beautiful people to have a reasonably good idea of what they could expect tonight. Annabelle's party had been child's play. This was the big leagues.

There was a knock at the door. Once satisfied with his tie, he went to answer it. He was unhappy, but unsurprised, to see Nick Sheens standing on the other side of it. Lisbon had insisted on calling him to let him know about the plan, and he in turn, had insisted on being a part of it.

"Agent Sheens."

"Mr Jane."

Reluctantly, Jane stood back to allow him into the house.

"Almost ready to go?" asked Nick.

"Yep," came Lisbon's voice from behind them as she hurried over to join them. She was wearing a new dress provided by the CBI tonight, a deep red this time, strapless, a little longer than the first one but just as form fitting. And he also couldn't help noticing the fantastic things it was doing for her cleavage. He wondered if Nick had noticed that too.

Not for the first time, he really wished she'd kept those emeralds he'd bought her back at that casino in Nevada. They'd have been perfect for tonight.

Nick wolf-whistled. "Wow, look at you Tessie. You look amazing in that dress."

She smiled a little, embarrassed.

"Oh, shut up."

"No, he's right," Jane chimed in. "You're stunning." He paused for a moment before adding "And the dress is lovely too."

She flushed a deep red and Jane sent a triumphant look over at Nick, who to Jane's disappointment merely raised an eyebrow. It seemed he was quite a cool customer. Never mind. Jane had extensive experience in messing with people; all he had to do was find the right button to push.

And make no mistake, when he found that button, he'd be jabbing at it with all his might.

"Now," said Nick, suddenly business-like. "This is how it's going to work. Tonight is a kind of reconnaissance mission, so all we need you guys to do is establish contact with these people, and figure out who the main players are. Don't do or say anything to try and make them incriminate themselves just yet, if we try and do this too fast they're going to be onto us in an instant."

He produced two small wireless microphones. Jane attached one to his lapel, and Lisbon to the top of the dress.

"No-one'll notice them if you don't draw any attention to them," he said.

"Oh damn, I'm glad you told me that," said Jane sarcastically. "I was just going to point it out to every person I talked to. 'I'm a snitch! Check out my awesome FBI-issued microphone. Now is there any criminal activities you'd like to confess to?'"

Lisbon gave him a hard, sharp slap on the arm. "Stop it Jane!" she hissed.

"OK, that's gotta stop right now," said Nick looking anxiously from one to the other. "From the second you walk out that door to the second you walk back in it again, you're not Teresa Lisbon and Patrick Jane. You're Will and Rachel Hayne. You're not work colleagues, you're a married couple. You're in love. Make them believe it, even though it's not true."

Who said it wasn't true? Jane thought to himself. Well maybe not the 'married' part, but the 'in love' part? He had that covered.

Lisbon was nervous. So many things could go wrong with this plan. One mistake, and the whole thing could be ruined. She took a deep, calming breath and forced herself to think rationally. It was up to her to make sure they didn't make any mistakes. It was her job. And if there was one thing Teresa Lisbon was good at, it was doing her job.

She shot a sidelong glance at Jane, now adjusting the microphone on his lapel. She had noticed that he did look particularly sexy in his black suit. Dark colours worked for him. His hair was in its usual state of messed-up perfection. Basically he just looked drop-dead gorgeous from head to toe. Surely it couldn't be_ that_ hard to pretend to be in love with him for a night.

'Sure Teresa," the irritating little voice in her head piped up. _"Pretend._"

She wanted to tell the little voice that it was wrong, but then he turned towards her and smiled at her, and for some reason, her mind went completely blank.

OK, so she probably wouldn't have to do much pretending after all.

* * *

Nick drove them both to Iridissia, and parked in the shadows a block away. It was all far too cloak-and-dagger for Jane's taste. They were, essentially, going for a drink, not staking out a terrorist cell. But Lisbon raised no objection, so he kept his silence.

"OK," said Nick. "I'm going to go find a place where I can keep an eye on the door. Give me ten minutes and then go inside. Remember: play it cool, don't draw too much attention to your mikes and don't break cover."

Lisbon nodded. Jane rolled his eyes. As if he needed any kind of instruction about how to deceive people. It was how he made his living for heaven's sake.

"Good luck," said Nick.

They listened to his footfalls dying away.

"You ready for this?" asked Jane.

"No way in hell."

"It'll be fine," he said, bracingly. "Just look like you're having fun, flash your cash around, make it look we've got money to burn and we won't even have to find these people, they'll come to us."

"So you say."

"I know," he corrected her. "They're always looking for rich suckers that they can get hooked on the stuff. Instant new revenue stream." She shot him a thoroughly unconvinced look, stretched her arms towards the ceiling, and sighed.

"How long has he been gone?" she asked.

Jane glanced at his watch. "Two minutes."

She laid her hand on the seat between them and started drumming her fingers nervously on the leather. He let this go on for about a minute before he gently put his hand over hers. She immediately started trying to pull her hand back.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

"Testing out how you'd react. And it's a good thing I did. If you reacted like that in there, you'd give us away."

She stopped trying to pull her hand away.

"Crap."

"We're supposed to be in love, remember? That's generally not what wives do when their husband tries to hold their hand."

"You're not my husband!"

"You heard what Nick said," said Jane patiently. 'Until we get back to the house I'm your husband and you're my wife."

She swallowed. Much as she hated to admit, Jane was right. People were counting on them. She owed it to everyone to do this properly. She nodded.

"Ready to give that another try?" he asked.

She shrugged. He let go of her hand and instead began to lean forward. Oh no, she couldn't let him kiss her again, she needed a clear head for this…

But as he got closer she noticed something else. She pulled away from before he got the chance to kiss her into oblivion (again.)

"I can see your ring."

"What?" he asked, confused. "Of course you can see my ring." He waved his left hand with the fake ring in front of her nose. "It's not exactly hard to spot…"

"No, not that ring you idiot, the other one!" She pointed to his neck, and then Jane understood.

"Oh." His hand went to the chain around his neck automatically, feeling the small circle there.

"You have to take it off," said Lisbon. "Someone might see it."

"I'll just hide it under my shirt," he said, tucking it out of sight. "Nobody will even know it's there." He hoped she would leave it at that.

"We can't risk someone seeing it. It'll undermine the whole operation. Take it off."

Jane didn't know what to do. Taking his ring off completely was a gesture of such finality that he wasn't sure if he could physically do it. But he could also see the sense in Lisbon's words. He couldn't guarantee that he could come up with a plausible cover story if someone saw it.

"You can put in the glove compartment," said Lisbon, coaxingly, sensing his hesitation. "It'll just be for a couple of hours. And when we come out you can put it right back on again."

Without really registering what he was doing, he reached up and undid the clasp, just as Lisbon had done three days ago in the kitchen. The chain slid free from his neck and he held it out to her. She took it from him carefully.

"Thank you."

He watched her as she leant over to stow it in the glove compartment, fighting the sudden mad desire to snatch it back off her.

"How long now?" she asked, turning back towards him again.

"Ten minutes."

"OK, let's do this."

They got out of the car, and almost mechanically, he offered her his arm. She slipped hers through it, and began to walk.

* * *

An hour later, they were both holding a glass of champagne seated on stools near the bar of Iridissia. Elegantly dressed people were mingling, sipping drinks that had probably cost a week's pay, out of glasses that had probably cost a month's.

They'd run into Hank after they reached the bar.

"Our plans for tonight fell through," Jane had lied. "And Rachel's been dying for a night out, haven't you honey?"

Lisbon had played her part well, shaking Hank's hand and thanking him most graciously for getting them in at the last minute. She was quite the actress, Jane thought. He'd noticed Hank's eyes lingering a little too long on the neckline of her dress and hurriedly asked Lisbon if she wouldn't mind ordering them some drinks.

The minute she'd turned away, Hank had let out a low whistle. "_That's _your wife?" he whispered. "Now I can see why you were in such a hurry to get home last night."

Jane shrugged noncommittally, but silently agreed with Hank wholeheartedly.

As he sat sipping his champagne, his thoughts floated to his wedding ring, safe in the glovebox of Nick's car. Part of him wanted to run back and get it, and part of him wanted to stay right here and see how long he could stick it out. He'd never even considered taking it off before this case so he'd never given a moment's thought to how it might feel.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as it might have been. Sure, the physical symbol was gone but the removal hadn't done anything to get rid of the memories. He could still recall Angela's face as easily now as he could yesterday. He still remembered how many sugars she'd liked in her coffee (three) and her favourite colour (green.) He still lamented her death just as much.

But now the ring was off, he could look across at Lisbon and think she was beautiful without feeling guilty about it as quickly. He could have five seconds to contemplate what exact shade of green her eyes were instead of one. It was like the lack of the physical reminder delayed the onset of the guilt for just a little longer.

It might take a long time (if ever) to feel no guilt at all, but now at least there could be hope. He might be able to get there someday.

He looked across at Lisbon again and saw that she was looking at him too. She smiled at him, and he returned it. He reached for her hand and she let him take it. He still thought of Angela but now he thought he eventually might be able to honour her memory, but feel love for Lisbon at the same time, instead of feeling like he had to choose.

Because in truth, he didn't want to lose either of them.

* * *

Lisbon wondered what Jane was thinking as he squeezed her hand. She knew he'd never tell her if she asked, but it didn't stop her from being curious. There were many things about him that she wondered about. She wondered what he did on the nights he went home instead of staying at the CBI. She wondered what he did for fun, if anything. She still wondered how good a lover he could be if he wanted to. Her feminine intuition had high expectations in that area.

She wondered if she'd ever find out.

* * *

The night wore on, and Jane was surprised to find that he was actually having fun. True to his predictions, within hours people were flocking towards himself and Lisbon, offering drinks, chatting about everything from politics to cars, inviting him for a hand of poker or two (and quickly regretting it.) So far, there'd been no alarm bells about the people he'd met but he was confident that it was only a matter of time.

The best thing of all was that he discovered just how much he could get away with under the pretext of 'cover.' When Lisbon came to stand next to him, he was allowed to put his arm around her waist, citing 'cover' as an excuse.

Brushing hair away from her face. Cover.

Kissing her cheek to thank her for bringing him another drink. Cover.

Quickly extricating her from Hank's clutches when he asked her to dance. Cover.

For the first time, he was permitted to show his affection for her with no fear of rejection, for at the end he could just say he'd been acting. And every time he felt guilty about it, he tried to push it away. For now, he wasn't Patrick Jane.

He was Will Hayne tonight.

* * *

Something strange had come over Jane, Lisbon thought. He seemed to be touching her at every opportunity.

Something strange had come over her too. Not only was she enjoying his attention, she was reciprocating.

She felt strangely free playing this character of Rachel Hayne. It was like she'd been given a free pass, a break from being straight-laced Teresa Lisbon. She didn't have to hate herself for what she feeling. For this one, limited time, she was allowed to act on it.

It was OK if she wanted to lean over his shoulder at the poker table and whisper something in his ear, just because she felt like it. And she could thread her arm through his and glare at other women giving him the eye with having to ask herself why.

She could get all this crazy lust and desire out of her system without hurting anyone, jeopardizing her career or her integrity.

* * *

Jane had just won yet another hand of poker against a guy named Jesse Hopkins who was rude, arrogant, and quite frankly, needed to be taken down a peg. So Jane had obliged by making him part with over two thousand dollars. Hopkins lumbered off, swearing under his breath while Jane made a show of counting his takings.

"Nice win."

Jane swivelled around in his seat to behold a heavyset man with a pig-like nose and coppery hair.

"Thanks."

"You're on a hot streak," said the man. "And not just at the cards." He inclined his head towards Lisbon who was chatting to a young blonde woman a few feet away.

"I'm a lucky man."

"Yes you are. But is it enough for you?"

"What exactly are you asking?"

The man took a swig of his drink. "I can tell from the way you play cards, and your taste in women that you like to live on the edge, my friend. I like that."

"And?"

"Y'know, the thrill of winning gets old after a while. What if I told you I knew another way for you to get your thrills?"

"I'm listening."

"I'm having a little get-together at my place tomorrow night. Maybe you should stop by. Here's the address."

Jane took the paper and slipped it in his pocket without reading it.

"By the way, I'm Bruce Fredrickson."

"Will Hayne."

"See you tomorrow night."

As suddenly as he'd appeared, he left.

Jane pulled Lisbon away from her companion.

"We're in."

"Fantastic. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Nick met them back at the car, as Jane retrieved his ring and put it in his pocket.

"Good work guys," he said. "Tomorrow night, we can get into phase two. We're going to get this done!"

"Thanks Nick," said Lisbon, smiling at him.

"Do you want a ride back to your place?"

As soon as they got back to the house, this little fantasy evening would be over. They'd have to go back to being Patrick and Teresa and have all the emotional baggage that came with it. Jane for one, was keen to spin it out for just a little longer.

"Actually," he said. "I think I'll walk." He looked to Lisbon. "How about you?"

"You read my mind," she said.

It wasn't far to walk back to the house, but they made the most of every second. He kept his arm around her the whole way. They didn't talk much, because it was enough just to be together. Too soon for both of them, they were heading up the front walk.

"You were great tonight,' he told her, as the approached the front door. "I had no idea you were such a good actress."

"I played the lead in my high school play," she said mildly.

"Really?" he asked, surprised. He never would have guessed that in a million years.

"No," she laughed. "I can't believe you fell for that!"

For a moment, he was frozen, not quite believing she'd been able to pull one over him so easily. But her laughter was infectious, and soon enough he was joining in.

"Wow, Rachel you sure are nasty," he said.

"And Will, you sure are gullible," she countered.

He turned towards the door fumbling with the key.

For the life of her, Lisbon would never understand what made her do it. Maybe it was because she just didn't want this to be over. As he opened the door and faced her again, she pulled him to her and kissed him.

* * *

Somehow he managed to stumble backwards through the doorway with her legs around his waist and her lips on his. They got all of two steps into the house before he gently prised her off of him, but only so he could push her up against the wall and attack her neck, shoulder blade, and collarbone with his lips while she moaned with pleasure. His hand crept up her thigh under the hem of her dress, while hers were clutching at the front of his jacket.

He let her help him dispense of it, and it hit the floor in a heap. She unbuttoned his shirt, pulling one of them loose in her haste (that was two shirts she'd cost him now.) His hand roamed higher and higher under her dress, fast approaching the point of no return.

"Bedroom?" he panted, in between hot kisses, now fumbling for the zipper at the back of her dress.

"Uh-huh."

Getting up the stairs was a slow process, as they could scarcely go one step without feeling the need to ravish each other some more. His shirt was gone by the fifth stair, her dress by the eighth, and his belt buckle by the twelfth. Once they finally reached the top, he looked at the few feet separating them from the bedroom. Too far. He scooped her up bridal-style and carried her the last few steps.

He put her down gently on the bed, joined her a moment later and before he knew it she was on top of him again while he fought with the irritatingly stubborn clasp of her bra. It took a while, but he won in the end. No piece of fabric and metal was going to stop this now.

He was a little hesitant at first; it had been a long time after all, but he got over that fast. And Lisbon had her answer.

Was he a good lover?

Yes.

He was passionate and tender, and she'd been right. He really _was_ a fast learner.

* * *

Lisbon woke up on the fifth morning of their stay in the same bed as usual. But today she wasn't alone.

There was an arm around her torso, and a leg around her waist. She didn't have to look to know whose. She should have known better, but last night she'd let her emotions run away with her. She'd had the perfect situation, and now she'd blown it.

Because she just hadn't been able to help herself.

And now, she was in big, big trouble.

* * *

**Did I go too far with the undercover thing? I think I went out on a limb with this one. I thought it was the only way to be able to get them together after what happened at the end of the last chapter without contradicting myself. But you guys will have to be the judge of that.**

**P.S As far as I know Iridissia is not a real place. It's just a name I came up with off the top of my head. If by some chance, there is such a place, this is me hereby saying that I don't own it.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks again to reviewers, favouriters, alerters and all other people who are reading and taking an interest in my little story. If I could, I would send a Patrick Jane (bearing emeralds) to all of you…**

**Disclaimer: The only things I own related to 'The Mentalist' are copies of both seasons on DVD. That is all.**

**Rating: T for frequent mentions of adult themes.**

**This chapter gave me a lot of trouble. What could be more important than the morning after the Jisbon-y night before?**

**So here's my take on it.**

***crosses fingers*******

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

It was almost ironic in a way. How many times had she fantasized about ending up in a situation just like this? Waking up in the arms of a handsome man after a night of passion, it was every woman's dream come true. And if she put aside all her doubts for just one moment, she had to admit; her fantasies had nothing on this.

She could hear his slow, deep breathing, his arms tight around her. If it weren't for the fact that sleeping with him had been so wrong, on so many levels (professional and otherwise) this would have been sort of…perfect.

For a law enforcement worker, the issue of the work/life balance was a difficult one. Making time for a social life was harder, due to the erratic work hours and the simple fact that whenever you did manage to score yourself some precious downtime, your main priority was sleep. And everywhere you looked around you, people were falling in love, getting married, having children.

Lisbon had seen many cops she'd known try and fail to get their jobs and home lives to coexist. From what she'd seen, she'd long since come to the opinion that it simply couldn't be done. Sooner or later, something had to give.

For her though, it had always been fairly straightforward. Her job won out every time. She had worked too hard and too long to let everything slip away from her now. And to date, she'd never regretted that decision.

But it was a lonely way to live. There were an awful lot of Saturday nights to be had in front of a television after all the old friends she used to have had finally given up on her, and stopped calling. That had hurt, but she never resented them for it. That was the life she'd chosen. And her romantic life had certainly suffered its fair share of droughts. Again, she had nobody to blame but herself.

But at the end of the day, no matter how hard she tried to repress it, she still had needs. Be it days, weeks, months, inevitably the moment would come when it all became too much, and she'd have to 'break the drought.'

She'd always been ashamed of herself for that, having to go prowl through a bar somewhere, for a complete stranger just so she could be close to another human being for a few hours.

But she'd never before broken the drought in a fashion quite as spectacular as last night. She'd sunk to a new low, losing her mind completely, forcing the clash of her personal and professional lives that she'd spent her entire career trying to avoid.

She'd more or less thrown herself at Jane, her subordinate no less, (and while it couldn't be said that he was completely blameless in this, as far as last night went, she had definitely been the instigator.)

But oh, it had felt good. It was like all the years of dancing around each other and unresolved issues, and deep-seated attraction, and both loathing and lusting after him in equal parts had added fuel to the fire for her. And, ambushed or not, he most certainly had not been complaining either.

It had been a memorable night. But they shouldn't have done it. Because now things between them would be even messier than before.

Sex had a way of making complicated situations just that much worse.

* * *

The other side of the bed was empty. Waking up from the best night's sleep he had in years, Jane immediately noticed that the bed was missing something very important.

A brunette, petite, green-eyed something, to be precise.

How had she done it without waking him? He wondered, half disappointed, half mildly impressed. He'd been looking forward to waking up with her in his arms, and he'd especially liked the idea of her being the first thing he laid eyes on this morning.

He was reminded of the time he'd been temporarily blinded, and after several days of darkness, he had finally taken the bandages off to see Lisbon in the doorway, bathed in the early morning light, peering anxiously in at him. The smile that had graced her face, once she'd realized he was okay remained, to this day, one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

But no, somehow she'd slipped away this morning, the little minx, leaving him all alone in a bed that he now thought was just too big for one person. He reached for his boxer shorts. Time to go locate his runaway lover.

He found her in the kitchen in a red satin robe, gazing out the window. Predictably, there was a cup of coffee next to her, but a quick glance at it told him that she probably hadn't taken so much as a sip. But coffee in the morning was part of her routine, a routine that had been so disrupted by last night he suspected that she wouldn't have been able to stand it if it varied any more.

"You know, when trying to avoid the morning after of the one-night stand, the general practice is to leave the house, rather than hang around in the kitchen."

He thought he saw her start as his voice broke the silence. Slowly she turned to face him, clutching the robe to herself in a death grip.

"There's no need for modesty Lisbon," he chuckled. "I've already seen you naked."

"Shut up!" she snapped. "This isn't a joke."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I had something far more charming and romantic prepared to say to you this morning, but imagine my horror when I opened my eyes to see you'd skipped out on me."

"I needed to think," she said, defensively. "And being near you was…distracting."

"How can it be distracting to be near the person you're thinking about?" He knew he shouldn't be goading her this early in the morning, but he did it on reflex now. It was out of his control.

Mostly.

"Who said I was thinking about you, anyway?" she said, quickly taking the bait.

"Oh please, if you weren't lying there rehashing last night over and over in that pretty little head of yours, Cho's a circus clown."

This conjured up a mental picture of their friend with his usual poker face, wearing a green wig and oversized red nose. Jane snickered to himself, and he noticed that though she was trying her hardest not to, Lisbon too had cracked a tiny smile. He made a mental note to tell Rigsby and Van Pelt about that one once they got back.

"If it helps," he said, pushing the image of Clown-Cho out of his head. "I've been thinking about you a lot too."

She didn't like the gleam in his eye as he said this, slowly coming towards her.

"In fact," he went on, in a low voice. "I've been having trouble getting you out of my head for quite some time." He came even closer now and she knew exactly what was on his mind. He leaned in and kissed her, and there was only a split second's thought in her mind of trying to stop him before she succumbed yet again. For a woman who prided herself on her independence and assertiveness she thought, she sure could be easily swayed.

He held her tightly by the waist; his hands warm on her skin through the thin robe. Her arms reached up to encircle his neck, pulling him to her, deepening the kiss. Then he pushed her back towards the counter again, pressing his body against hers.

_Clunk._ She brushed against the coffee cup, which tipped over and spilled all over the bench, and the sudden noise made them quickly break apart.

Lisbon cursed herself as she tried to clear her head. This was the fourth time they'd kissed, and he was still able to take her breath away. How had he gotten so good at it that every time felt like the first time?

"You see?" said Jane, smirking at her in that totally insufferable and yet unbelievably sexy way. "That was just a taste of what I had in store for you if you hadn't done a runner on me."

* * *

She had to admit; there were much worse ways to start the day than by being kissed like that by Patrick Jane. But that was beside the point. The little tinge of red coloured her cheeks and she averted her gaze from his.

"Jane, last night was a-"

"Mistake," he supplied. "And it should never have happened, right?"

Her eyes snapped up to meet his again.

"How did you-?"

"Lisbon, I've known you long enough now to know that whenever you take an emotional step forward, your MO is to immediately want to run about forty steps back."

She couldn't deny it, and they both knew it. Over the years, they'd gradually been getting closer and closer, and she'd fought it every step of the way. But, she reminded herself, so had he. He'd done everything in his power to try and shut her out. And now he had the nerve to accuse her of being the only emotionally unstable one here? She didn't think so.

"Hypocrite," she snapped, savagely. "Giving me lectures about emotional maturity when all I've ever seen _you_ do is wallow in your own self-pity."

"How is that any worse than your preferred coping mechanism of drowning yourself in work?" he countered. "But I suppose that you do have a point. It seems we're about at the same level." He was looking at her so intently now, she felt as if he were actually trying to read her mind. It was unnerving.

"Well, while we're in a sharing mood, do you want to know how I feel about last night?" he asked.

Oh no. He was using that tone, the one he only used when about to say something serious. And to be quite honest, she was petrified of what she might hear.

"I don't regret it," he said sincerely.

"Well I do!" she said.

"But why though?" he asked, his gaze probing hers.

"Because we work together!"

"But is that the only reason? Just think about this, Lisbon. If we had met under different circumstances, somewhere other than the CBI, would you still regret what happened last night?"

She thought about it. What if she and Jane had met at a bar, or a restaurant, or at the supermarket? What if she'd known nothing about his family or Red John and only judged him on the carefree, forever-smiling facade that he presented to the public? Would she still have slept with him?

Probably. She'd always been a sucker for a killer smile. And she knew from experience that it was very difficult to say 'no' to Patrick Jane without sufficient practice.

But would it have meant anything?

No.

It would have been a night of meaningless (albeit satisfying) sex; and they would have parted ways the next morning. And that would be it. They would probably have never laid eyes on each other again.

She would never have to gotten to know the man that lay behind the mask. His phone number would never have been saved to her speed-dial. And he certainly would never have become one of the most important people in her life.

She wouldn't have fallen for him if it weren't for the CBI; that was for sure. It had been a long, hard road for them to get to where they were now; a road with many fierce arguments and much pain along the way. Had they not been constantly thrown together by their jobs, she would never have taken the trouble to find out the kind of person he really was, and would have simply written him off as a cocky, time-wasting jerk.

It was the ultimate catch-22. The CBI, the same place that had brought them together, also stood poised to drive a wedge into any relationship they might pursue.

It seemed that karma was having a good joke at her expense. She'd spent her whole career putting her job first, avoiding men and relationships; confident she'd never have to choose between business and pleasure. But apparently the universe had had other plans, and Patrick Jane had found his way into the CBI, her team, and eventually, her heart.

He was the forbidden apple tree in the Garden of Eden, sent to test her resolve to do what was right, and to tempt her into sin.

And now, countless arguments, several steamy kisses, and one even steamier night later, here they were, minimally dressed in a kitchen, miles away from Sacramento, work, and normality.

She'd been hoping her long silence would have spared the necessity of a response, but he was still watching her, awaiting her answer. But what could she say? She couldn't lie about it. He'd know.

"What do you think?" she found herself asking, a little snappishly.

His gaze never left hers, but it seemed to soften at the same time. The lines in his forehead relaxed as he smiled at her.

"Nice try."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on Lisbon, answering a question with a question? That's textbook deflection. And honestly, I'm a little insulted that you'd think you could throw me off that easily."

She hadn't really expected that to work. But it had been worth a try.

"If you're going to play mind games with me," he continued, "you're going to have to do better than that. Now please. Answer the question."

He was looking at her as if she were an uncooperative teenager, like she was deliberately withholding her answer just to toy with him. Didn't he understand how confusing this all was for her? Her head was telling her one thing, and her heart was telling her another.

She couldn't lie to him. She couldn't trick him or distract him. All she had left was the truth.

"If things had been different," she said. "I probably wouldn't have regretted it."

He beamed at her. "I knew it!" he exclaimed.

She watched him revel in the joy of being right, as he so often did, and it made her wonder if that was all he cared about right now. Was that all he had hoped to gain from last night, scoring another point against her?

"Jane, what was the point of making me say that?" she asked him, quietly. "It doesn't change anything. Things aren't different. They are the way they are. We still work together. You' re still a grieving widower. Last night was still a mistake…regardless of how I feel about it."

"And how do you feel about it?" he asked.

"What does it matter anyway?" she said, fretfully. "It wasn't even real."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't think it actually happened? Well, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but unless we were both having the same _extremely_ vivid dream last night-"

"That's not what I meant," she cut him off. "We spent the whole evening pretending to be other people. We were wearing clothes that aren't ours, answering to names that don't belong to us. It was an undercover op that got out of control. That's it."

"You can't honestly believe that," he said.

"Everything's new and different, so we've latched onto each other because it's the only familiarity we have. I think we're confusing that with you know…other stuff."

"Lisbon," he said, softly, shaking his head. "That is the biggest load of crap I have ever heard come out of your mouth. We weren't confused; we both knew perfectly well what we were doing. Like it or not, we made a conscious decision to do what we did. And at the risk of sounding childish; you started it."

He looked at her as if daring her to contradict him. But she knew she couldn't. Because he was right. Nothing had happened to force her into kissing him; it hadn't been necessary to keep their cover. She'd chosen to do it. She'd let her lust and desire overpower all her better judgement, and now she had to pay the repercussions for it, whatever those might be.

* * *

He could see her searching for another excuse, but was pleased when she was unable to find one. At the very least, he wanted her to acknowledge that it had meant something. For him, it had been a huge step forward. It had proven to him that his feelings for her ran far deeper than physical attraction, and that last night wasn't just a manifestation of pent-up sexual tension.

And the reason he could say that with certainty was that as he looked at her now, he was just as in love with her this morning as he had been last night.

That was what he had been most afraid of, why he'd managed to resist Lisbon's many charms for this long. He'd been petrified that he'd regret it. That he'd shunted aside the memory of his wife for something that just hadn't been worth it.

No need to worry about that anymore.

And more than anything in the world right now, he wanted to tell her so. He tested the words out in his head. 'I love you.' 'I love you.' So easy to think, so difficult to say.

* * *

They looked at each other, neither knowing what to say or do. The atmosphere felt like it was vibrating with anticipation, like whatever happened next was going to define their relationship forever.

"Are you hungry?" Jane asked her, just to break the terrible, awkward silence.

She managed a small smile. Men. As if any woman would be thinking of her stomach at a time like this.

"Sure," she answered, though honestly, her insides were writhing like snakes.

"Why don't I fix us something while you go up and take a shower?"

She nodded, grateful for the escape, and exited the kitchen. When she reached the stairs, she cringed inwardly as she noticed that all their clothes were still there, where they'd been dropped in the hurry to get to the bedroom. With the microphones still attached.

Horror coursed through her with the speed of a bullet. Nick. How much had he heard?

She hurried back to the bedroom, grabbed her cell phone from the bedside table and punched in his number. The line rang, and she wasn't sure whether she wanted him to pick up or not.

"Nick Sheens."

"Hey," she greeted him, trying not to sound as terrified as she felt. "It's me."

"Tessie?" He sounded surprised. "This is early for a call. What's wrong?"

"Sorry to bother you," she said. "But I just realized we still have those microphones that you gave us."

"Yeah, I know," he said, casually. "I realized that just after you guys took off. Don't worry; you'll be using them again tonight anyway. Just keep them safe."

"Are they still transmitting?" she asked, as lightly as she could manage. She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding with terror as she waited for his answer.

"Nah," he said. "As soon as I figured out what happened, I turned off the receiver."

The relief she felt as these words was so great that she felt like she had to sit down. She sank onto the bed, feeling like her knees were about to give out beneath her.

"Are you all right?" Nick ventured. "You sound a little weird. Are you sick or something?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine. Is something wrong?"

No, she thought. Just that she'd slept with her consultant last night, and that now she was torn between regretting it and wanting to do it again. Other than that, everything was peachy.

"I'm OK," she said to him, working hard to make herself sound credible. "Really."

"If you say so," he answered, sounding extremely unconvinced. "But take it easy today, OK? I need you at your best tonight. See you later."

The call ended, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was for anyone else to find out about what had happened last night, when she hadn't even figured out how she felt about it yet. She'd dodged a bullet on this one. They'd have to be more careful next time.

The panic set back in as the last thought sunk in.

Next time? There was going to be a next time?

It scared her how much she liked that idea.

* * *

As he mixed pancake batter, Jane listened hard for the sound of the shower upstairs. Silence. What was she doing up there? Brooding, no doubt, trying to rationalise everything that had happened over the last forty-eight hours.

He couldn't say he blamed her. The last two days had been more mentally exhausting and emotionally draining than he ever could have imagined. He'd had to face up to things he'd been repressing for so long, he'd experienced every kind of emotion in the book, his relationship with the single most important person in his life had been turned upside down and inside out, and he couldn't be sure if it was for the better or the worse. But there was no stopping it now. The wheels had been set in motion the night he'd first kissed her on the couch.

Their futures, whether they be together or not, hung in the balance.

* * *

Lisbon stayed where she was until the smell of cooking tempted her from her solitary reverie. She arrived back in the kitchen to see the spilled coffee had been wiped up, and Jane removing pancakes from a hissing frypan and stacking them neatly onto two plates.

"Skipped the shower?" he asked.

"Dealing with a crisis."

"What, are we running out of hot water or something?" he asked, turning off the stovetop. "Because if you want to conserve water, we can always just take one together." He grinned at her over his shoulder.

"Stop." She aimed a glare at him.

"Just trying to be eco-conscious. Reduce my carbon footprint and all that."

"By trying to seduce me?"

He shrugged as he brought the plates over.

"I look at it as killing two birds with one stone. And don't take this the wrong way, but you are so _very_ seducible Lisbon, with those big green eyes and untapped internal well of sexual frustration-"

"Stop!" she snapped, louder than before, pounding her fist on the table. "How can you be so casual about this?"

"Casual?" he repeated, as he put a plate down in front of her. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood a little. But don't go making the mistake of thinking that there was anything casual about what happened last night. It wasn't exactly an everyday event for me, you know."

The mood had suddenly shifted. All trace of humour was gone from his eyes now. But something didn't make sense to Lisbon. If it had meant so much to him, why was she the only one who was freaking out about it? He seemed totally unaffected by it as he calmly sat down and reached for the maple syrup.

He seemed to sense her watching him, and looked up to meet her gaze.

"There's no point stressing over what's already done," he said. "The only thing we can control is what happens next."

She looked down at her plate, but the mere thought of eating made her nauseous.

"So what does happen next?" he asked her, taking advantage of her silence.

"Well, you're the man with all the plans," she said, finding her voice. "What do you think?"

"I never planned on this."

"And you think I did? Of all the people I could've picked to throw away my career on, I chose the insecure, vengeful widower whose only life plan is to commit brutal murder."

Something in his expression hardened. "Firstly, you haven't thrown away your career. And secondly, it's a bit rich for you to be so judgmental, when you're not exactly the Most Eligible Bachelorette of the year yourself, at least not on paper."

She felt as if he'd reached over and slapped her. "What?"

"You drive yourself to the point of mental exhaustion. You've got trust issues, father issues, a misplaced sense of responsibility for practically everyone you know, a pathological need to try and fix everyone else's problems with little to no regard for the consequences for yourself…"

She sat stunned, as he ticked things off on his fingers.

"Face it," he concluded. "We're both screwed up."

This observation added yet another layer to their already way-too-confusing relationship. Teasing and nettling she was used to, but this brutal honesty bordering on downright cruelty, was a new one.

"That's how you see me?" she asked. "As some sort of control-freak headcase?"

It surprised her at how very hurt she was over these revelations. Jane had always made it crystal clear that any emotional attachment he had for the team as a whole would exist only as far as they were able to assist him in his cause, but a small, selfish part of her had always hoped that she might be the exception. All the time they'd spent together over the years, all the extra attention he paid her, the steady parade of expensive gifts that only ever seemed to find their way to her and not the rest of the team, surely that had to mean something. She'd always thought deep down, he must care for her at least a little. Obviously, she'd been wrong.

"When we first met, yes I did," said Jane bluntly. He was certainly pulling no punches today. "When I found out I was going to be working with your team, I made a point of finding out as much about you as I could. I asked around the bureau, and I managed to get a look at your personnel file."

"Those are supposed to be confidential!"

"I persuaded Minelli to look the other way."

"And by 'persuaded' you mean 'hypnotised?'"

"Don't be silly Lisbon," he said in a tone as if she had offended him greatly. "As if I'd ever do something so unethical."

She snorted, as he went on.

"Anyway, I had a clear idea of what you might be like in my mind, and when we were first introduced, you were exactly what I expected. The first few cases we worked, I confess, I thought you were the most irritating, intolerable woman that I had ever had the misfortune to meet."

She registered the use of past tense. "And now?" she asked.

"Well, I _still_ think you're the most irritating, intolerable woman I have ever had the misfortune to meet." He smirked at her.

"And you're the most arrogant jackass that has ever walked the earth. But I don't tell you that."

"Actually, my dear, you do. Frequently." He chuckled. "But before you start getting all self-righteous and defensive, will you please let me finish?"

"Oh sure. Far it be from me to stop you before you've finished insulting me," Lisbon deadpanned. "Carry on. Please."

"The more I got to know you; the more I realised just how little your colleagues actually knew about you. No one ever mentioned how smart you are, for instance, or how brave, or your quick wit, or your moral integrity, or your tenacity. In fact I think I'm probably one of the only people at the CBI who sees just how unique you are."

Now she was really confused. Were these actual, genuine compliments or just cleverly disguised jabs now? She didn't know.

"The point is, I haven't been with anybody since my wife. I never thought there was anyone on the planet that could make me want to take that risk again." He held her gaze, it was almost hypnotic, impossible to look away. "I was wrong."

She searched his eyes for that telltale gleam that meant he was messing with her, but failed to find it. In fact, she saw the kind of sincerity that she rarely saw in him. Her heart fluttered. Could he actually have meant that?

Never mind. She couldn't let him sweet-talk her into anything. She had to stick to her guns.

"Please don't do this, Jane," she said. "This situation is awkward enough as it is. I'm your boss, there are rules, that's all there is to it. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"We can't keep ignoring these things, Lisbon. We've been sweeping things under the rug for ages, and look where we've ended up. Sleeping together on an undercover case. Not exactly professional, is it?"

She couldn't find a retort for that. He was right of course. He was almost always right.

"It's time to stop lying," he went on, as her gaze continued to pinion his. "To each other, and to ourselves. You know how I saw you when we first met, and you know how I've seen you since. Do you want to know how I see you right now?"

Did she? If she was being honest with herself, she wasn't entirely sure. Her wish to not let things get any more unprofessional was battling with her desire to find out exactly what was going on in his head. In the end, her curiosity won out.

"OK."

"I don't see a police officer, or my boss, or my fake wife. All I see is an intelligent, confident, sexy woman who makes me feel like I never thought I could feel again. And I don't regret a single thing about making love to her last night."

She could feel the blush coming on, she could tell her heart rate must be speeding up. It was so, so hard to keep her head on straight with him saying such sweet things to her. But she had to do it. They'd both be better off in the long run.

"Jane, I'm sorry. I can't do this."

Back came his grin. "Liar."

"What?"

"Well you're about to tell me that you don't have any feelings for me and that last night was a one-off. I thought I'd let you save your breath and catch you out in the lie before you said it."

"For once in your life, will you just accept it when I tell you that no good can come of this!"

"I disagree."

"Of course you do."

"Oh Lisbon, come on, there's no shame in admitting what we both already know."

"No."

"It'll make you feel so much better," he said coaxingly.

"No!"

"Can you give me one good reason why?"

* * *

"We work together."

"We'll keep it a secret."

"Someone will find out."

"No they won't."

"And if they do?"

"We'll deal with it."

She hated the way he was belittling her like this. These were good, solid legitimate reasons and he was waving them away like they were just minor hiccups. But this was far from a joke for her. This was her life he was talking about.

"Fine," she said, lowering her voice. "You want a reason? I'll give you a reason."

"OK," he said. "But you better tell me the truth, or I'll know."

She took a deep breath. She had been so hoping that it wouldn't have to come to this. Why couldn't he just have left it alone?

"How do I know this is really what you want? Say you and I were to start something while we're here in L.A. We're in this little bubble here, shut off from our real lives. Right now, all we really have is each other."

He was way too close to her. She sat back in her chair so as to put a little more space between them.

"So what happens when we get back to Sacramento? We'll go back to work, things will go back to normal. And sooner or later we'll come across a Red John case." Jane hissed at the sound of his name. "It's like you put your whole life on hold when we get a Red John case. We'll fight the way we always do, then you'll get into that calculating, homicidal mindset _you_ always do-don't bother denying it," she added as he opened his mouth to protest. "And to be honest Jane, when you get like that, you scare me a little. You take risks, and you put yourself and the team in danger. And then when we don't get him, you retreat back into yourself for weeks and you make me wonder what'll happen if you don't come out of it this time."

Jane listened in silence as Lisbon poured her heart out to him. He had no idea that she felt this way; she was absolutely right. Whenever Red John was in the picture, he could never think of anything else.

"And then sometime the day will come when we do catch up to him," she continued sadly. "And if you keep going on the path you're going, you'll either wind up dead or in prison. And then what do I do? I'll have jeopardized my career, and everything I've worked so hard for, for a man who doesn't even care."

This accusation finally gave Jane occasion to speak.

"Haven't you been listening to me, woman? I do care about you, more than you could possibly know."

"But you don't care enough to give up on this revenge plan, even though I've told you time and time again what the consequences will be. Have you even given a _moment's_ thought to what it'll do to me if something happens to you? And that's only speaking as your boss and your friend. If I were your girlfriend, I don't even know if I could stand it."

It was as if her brain was like a dam, which had been storing up all these insecurities for so long, and suddenly the dam had broken, and it was all spilling out. She didn't think she could stop talking if she tried.

"And if that weren't enough, you still wear your wedding ring. You still love her, and you probably always will. And as long as we were together, I'd know that you wouldn't even be with me if she were still alive. I can't compete with the memory of your wife. She was the love of your life."

There were no tears in her eyes, rather a determined resignation as she held his gaze.

"Patrick, you are many things, but you are not a solid investment. As it stands now, if we were in a relationship the only way it could end is with somebody getting hurt. And it would probably be me," she admitted. "You can't ask me to put everything I care about at risk for something that can only end in disaster. I won't do it."

She stood up abruptly, pushing her chair back and picked up her untouched plate of pancakes.

For only the second time in his life, Patrick Jane was rendered speechless. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. She was one of the most private people he'd ever met, and here she was telling him about her feelings as if she did it every day.

She started to move away from the table, and instinctually his hand shot out, caught her free one and intertwined his fingers with hers.

"Teresa, I-"

She gently pulled her hand away from him.

"I'm sorry Patrick," she said, meaning it. "But you wanted the truth."

* * *

**You guys hate me a little bit right now, don't you? :) Though I can't say I blame you, if I were reading this story, I'd hate me too. I had two possible ways for this chapter to turn out, one fluffy and one not so much. I couldn't decide, so I just started typing and let my muse pick for me. Guess she was in an angsty kind of mood…**

**But don't lose hope, Jisbon faithful. Sure, Lisbon said a lot, but there are also a lot of important things she _didn't _say.**

**Hopefully, you'll join me for the next chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I continue to be totally flattered by the positive response this story is getting. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You guys are the best.**

**Disclaimer: No. No. No. I don't own it. Can I make it any clearer?**

* * *

It wasn't until many hours later, when the two of them had returned from the evening's soiree, that Lisbon allowed herself to seriously think about everything that had happened this morning. Not that she'd been able to put it out of her mind completely, of course.

The atmosphere between herself and Jane had been thick with tension all day, every word they spoke to each other carefully chosen, every little glance at each other fraught with meaning. It was like all the things left unsaid from this morning were hanging in the air, just waiting to be acknowledged. It was almost unbearable.

At the party they'd spent as little time together as possible, and after arriving back at the house, gone to their separate sleeping areas without so much as a word to one another.

She lay in bed with the light off, staring at the dark ceiling, willing for sleep to come, while knowing full well that it wouldn't. The bed, while very comfortable, just didn't feel right tonight. She refused to accept that the reason might be the absence of someone else, who last night had held her so close and so tight, and murmured all varieties of sweet nothings in her ear as she drifted off to sleep.

She missed _her_ bed; that was the problem. And she missed her apartment and her living room couch and her office and her desk, and the bullpen. She missed taking the elevator up to the Serious Crimes floor with Minelli who for years had always turned up at the same time as her. She missed the noisy whirring of her ancient office computer. She even missed the crappy coffeemaker in the break room. In short, she missed her real life.

She missed the team a lot; Cho, immersed in his latest novel, Van Pelt, forever lecturing Rigsby on his appalling dietary habits, and the latter dutifully agreeing with every word she said, and then racing to grab a doughnut the moment she turned her back.

She missed Jane too, though it sounded ridiculous as they were living in the same house. But he was so different to his usual self; it was like sharing with a stranger.

Before this case, things had been so much simpler, their relationship mostly confined to bickering and flirting, but now everything had changed. Now there were feelings to deal with.

She'd hurt him badly this morning. She knew it was true; she'd seen it in his eyes as she'd walked away and left him alone at the table. Half of her had wanted to run right back to him, fling her arms around him and say she was sorry, that she hadn't meant it really, and screw the politics and the CBI, all she wanted was to be with him.

But under all the guilt and the pain of having hurt him so, she knew she'd made the right call.

They could have been good together for a while, she acknowledged. Jane wasn't the kind of man who did things by halves. And she knew that buried under all the bitter resentment, he had a good heart and a generous spirit. They might have even been happy for a time, and she knew he'd have loved her as much as he was able.

But it simply wasn't enough. She knew she wouldn't have been able to handle constantly running second place to Red John or his wife. Call her overly –competitive or selfish, but he was first in her heart, and for anything between them to last the long-term, she'd have to be first in his too. She'd never ask him to forget about his family completely, but was it so unreasonable to want him to look over from time to time and see only her, and not a consolation prize to the life he had lost?

She needed more from him than he could give right now, and most likely, ever.

The situation being what it was, there was no possible way she could envision things to turn out that wouldn't entail him causing her pain. It was just the way things were. She'd have ended up alone and miserable in the end.

At least this way, it was on her terms. But that was small comfort when your heart was breaking.

* * *

It was a good thing he'd slept well last night, as Jane suspected he wouldn't be getting any rest tonight.

So this was it, then? This was how he was doomed to spend the rest of his days, alone in the darkness with nothing but pain and bitterness for company. Or at least, it was certainly looking that way, any potential relationship with Lisbon over before it had even begun. She'd made that very clear.

Infuriating, stubborn woman. Much as he disliked it, he couldn't deny that she had made several valid points this morning, and looking at things from a purely practical standpoint, he was forced to accept how she might see a relationship to be to both her professional and personal detriment.

Yes, it would take a lot of hard work to make a go of things, and yes, the odds were heavily stacked against them. But he still thought it was worth giving it a chance.

For what was the alternative? Sitting around on his couch in the CBI, watching her through her office window, thinking about everything they could have had.

He'd never dreamed that he could feel this way about anyone again, that there might be room for somebody else in his heart. And yet somehow, by some miracle, he had managed to stumble across the one woman on earth who could make it happen, only to hit another roadblock.

There was one thing she'd said this morning that had stuck particularly fast in his head. "Patrick, you are many things, but you are not a solid investment." She made it sound as though she were backing out on a business deal, rather than something that could potentially make both of them happier than they'd been for years.

He was a little out of practice at the 'boyfriend' thing, true enough. His relationship status had been either 'married' or 'widower' for as long as he could remember. But the basic principles couldn't have changed that much.

It would be his job to tease her and bicker with her, and bring her coffee in the morning, and put a smile on her face when she was having a bad day. Well that wasn't hard. He did all that stuff already.

And he would need to hold her if she needed it, and give her space if she wanted it, and to be able to know her well enough to tell the difference. Check. He knew her better than anybody.

And of course, the most important thing of all, he would have to make sure she would never again doubt how important she was to him.

He could do it. He knew he could. He'd give her the world if she asked him for it. All he had to do was make her see. And if there was something Patrick Jane thrived on, it was a challenge.

But for now, he thought, it might be wise to pull back a bit, at least until they got this case solved. She seemed to be of the opinion that their enforced 'marriage' had been the only reason all these things had happened, and he couldn't possibly mean the things he said. The only way to prove her wrong was to take the case out of the equation completely. No more blurring the lines with fake names and playacting.

When they got back to Sacramento, he swore to himself that he would find a way to show her that they could be worth the risk. But until then, he had to be patient.

After all, good things came to those who waited.

* * *

And so the night passed. Lisbon in her bed, Jane on the couch, both so caught up in thoughts of the other that the very concept of getting to sleep was laughable.

She wondered whether he would have always made love to her with the same tenderness as the first time.

He marvelled at the fact that even he though he was perfectly used to spending his nights alone, one night with her had been enough to make him realise how much he'd missed having someone else there.

By the time the first light of dawn crept over the horizon however; they were both thinking the same thing: This case couldn't be over soon enough.

* * *

The problem with living in such a small house with only one bathroom was that it made it a good deal harder to be able to actively avoid each other. But Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon were nothing if not determined, and henceforth both managed to shower, dress, and eat breakfast without having to so much as lay eyes on each other. The rest of the day they planned to spend apart, Lisbon having run into Meg at last night's party and arranged to meet for lunch.

Of course, it was too much to ask for that they might be able to get through the whole morning without seeing each other. It was inevitable that they would cross paths at some point, which came to pass when they encountered each other on the stairs.

"Morning," he ventured.

"Morning."

She hadn't slept. He noticed it right away. Probably up all night thinking, if he knew her. Both a good thing and a bad thing. Good that she hadn't been able to shake everything off easily, making her acknowledge that it was important. Bad that the idea made her uncomfortable enough for her to be unable to get to sleep.

"Off to see Meg?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

"I'll be back in a few hours."

"Have fun."

"Thanks. I will."

There was a strange formality in the way they talked to each other this morning, it was polite, but totally devoid of the warmth and humour he was accustomed to when they usually spoke to each other. Even when they bickered, the insults they fired at each other were often laced with affection.

He liked it best when they were arguing; this newfound polite stiffness felt unnatural to him. He dearly hoped this wasn't to be a permanent change.

His cell phone rang, and he dragged it out of his pocket as she brushed past him and out the front door.

"Patrick Jane."

"Hey man," came Cho's slow, deep voice. "I just got off the phone with Miranda from Professional Standards."

The Professional Standards unit was the team hired to help smooth things over when investigations got a little out of hand, and keep the press in the dark as much as possible. Since Jane had joined the CBI, their workload had tripled, and after a few months, Minelli had ordered that one of them be assigned exclusively to deal with complaints against him. That 'honour' had fallen to the lot of Miranda Fratelli, and she could often be seen in Lisbon's office as the two of them attempted damage control.

"You must have been born under a lucky star," she'd said to Jane once, after she and Lisbon had somehow managed to find yet another loophole in the rulebook to get him out of trouble. "If you didn't have Lisbon watching your back, you'd be toast a thousand times over."

"Isn't that supposed to be _your_ job?" he'd challenged her, and to his surprise, rather than getting angry, she'd simply smiled incredulously.

"I might be the one that gets the paycheque and all the credit, but half the time it's Lisbon who figures out how to fix the problem. Do you realise that there isn't a thing that woman wouldn't do for you? You'd damn well better appreciate it."

He couldn't remember his response to that, something offhand and sarcastic no doubt, but it had got him thinking about how much extra work he must create for his boss, and it gave an indication of the depth of her patience and affection for him (professional or not) that she kept putting up with it.

Truth be told, he always did feel a little bad about it whenever she was called into Minelli's office to be berated over something he had done. And to date, she'd never once thrown him to the wolves, taking as much of the blame on herself as she could. Time and time again, she shielded him from the worst of the fallout he caused.

That was one of his most favourite things about her. She was loyal to the last.

* * *

Shuffling papers on the other end of the line brought his thoughts abruptly back to the present, and the conversation.

"Harvey Kent is threatening to press charges against you, unless you give him a formal apology."

"And Harvey Kent is?"

"You know, the weedy guy from a couple of cases back."

"Was that the guy who punched me in the nose when I convinced his daughter that she was adopted?"

"No. The one that punched you in the nose when you blackmailed him into confessing to a murder he didn't commit in order to flush out the real killer."

Now Jane remembered. Harvey Kent. Jane had known it wasn't him right from the start, but it had been fun messing with him. And the idiot had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. For an MIT graduate, he sure had been easy to fool. As for the blackmailing, if he hadn't been cheating on his wife in the first place, it would never have happened.

"I'm not apologizing," he said, firmly.

"I'm shocked," replied Cho, flatly. "I'll tell Miranda to set a court date. Again."

"Thank you. How's everything back in Sacramento?"

"Weird. It's way too quiet without you and the boss yelling at each other every five minutes."

"Rigsby? Van Pelt?"

"The air's so thick with hopeless longing, it's making me nauseous."

Jane chuckled.

"How's life undercover?"

Well that wasn't an easy question. So much had happened over the last week it made Jane's head spin. But how best to summarize it all for Cho?

"Well, put it this way," he said at last. "I don't remember marriage being quite this dramatic."

"Well last time, you weren't married to Lisbon," said Cho. "You two stuck in a house together alone was always going to create more fireworks than the 4th of July."

Now he came to think of it, fireworks were a perfect way to describe their relationship. Not so long ago, there'd been nothing but darkness and despair in his life, and then she'd catapulted into it out of nowhere and suddenly there'd been colour and energy and pizzazz again.

Teresa Lisbon, his little pocket rocket.

"Things have gotten a little heated at times, but so far no casualties," said Jane, laughing.

There was a brief silence before Cho spoke again. "You slept with her."

Not the slightest tone of uncertainty coloured the statement. Cho was certain.

How had he known? Jane hadn't told him anything about what they'd been up to since they'd been here. What if he was easier to read than he thought? He felt his pulse speeding up. Time to do what he did best; plant a seed of doubt in Cho's mind. If Lisbon found out what their friend suspected, it was game over.

"What makes you say that?"

"When I heard what you and Lisbon had to do for this case, I knew it could only end in two ways. And since she evidently hasn't murdered you yet, that only leaves me with one conclusion."

"Which is?" The only hope for it was to try and misdirect him, to trip him up from this very dangerous line of questioning.

Cho sighed. "Seriously man, you're really going to make me go there?"

"Go where?"

"Fine. You asked for it. Rather than trying to rip each other's heads off, you and the boss decided to rip each other's clothes off instead."

If it had been anyone else, they would have been walking on eggshells at the idea of bringing up such a delicate topic. Not so with Cho. And Jane knew there was no point trying to deny anything now. Once Cho got an idea in his head that was it. And more to the point, he was right.

"How could you tell?" he asked resignedly, embarrassed at having his cover blown wide open. Deception was supposed to be his speciality for God's sake, and Cho had made him in minutes.

"You and Lisbon have been forcing yourselves to keep your hands off each other for ages. And the whole time we've been talking you've been sounding as triumphant as if you just won the lottery."

"Impressive," said Jane, always one to give credit where it was due.

"You think I could work alongside you for all these years and not learn something about observation?" Cho replied, wryly.

"Apparently not."

Cho blew out another sigh. "Look, whatever the deal is, it's none of my business. But just be sure of what you're doing. Don't screw her around."

There was a pause, in which Jane could practically hear him add 'or else.'

With the excuse of paperwork do, Cho then rang off, leaving Jane to his confused thoughts.

Be sure of what he was doing? Well that was far easier said then done.

* * *

The doorbell rang, and Jane opened the door once again to the disappointing sight of Nick waiting outside of it. This guy was taking far too keen an interest in this case, and more importantly, in Lisbon as far as Jane was concerned.

"Hey Jane," Nick greeted him easily, stepping inside without invitation. "Where's Tessie?"

"_Teresa_," Jane corrected him firmly, 'isn't here. She had a lunch date."

"Oh," Nick looked visibly deflated. "I had the afternoon off and I thought the two of us could maybe catch up a little."

"Well take a number and get in line," said Jane waspishly. "She's a very popular woman."

Nick chuckled. "She always was. Back at the academy, there were at least five guys after her, including one of the criminology lecturers. She was totally oblivious to it of course. 100% focused, 100% of the time."

"Guess she hasn't changed much."

"Not at all."

Any other time, Jane would have been glad to hear about any aspect of Lisbon's past, but here, now, with everything so weird between them, and with him still not sure where Nick stood in terms as a potential rival, he had no desire to pursue the subject.

As Nick looked at his watch to check the time, Jane took the chance to survey him with minute detail. Clean-cut, self-assured, a standard-issue good guy (or so it appeared.) Was Nick her idea of a 'solid investment?' He supposed when he took his own disdain for the FBI agent off the table he could see what might attract Lisbon to him. He was one of her oldest friends, quite clearly cared about her (however grudgingly Jane might admit it), and was free of emotional baggage. She could be sure of what she was getting into if she was dating Nick. And he knew how much she valued security in her choices.

This revelation really seemed to illustrate the fact that if he was not prepared to make some big changes in his own life, there was a very real possibility that he would lose her in the end, to Nick or someone like him. Sure, he would be able to seduce her with words and kisses easily enough for a while, but if he wanted her for keeps he had to dig deeper.

And though she had many, many wonderful qualities, patience wasn't a particular strong suit of hers. She wouldn't wait around forever.

She was the best thing that had happened to him in many years. His life had only been improved by having her in it. Now he needed to do something about the perception she seemed to have that being with him would ultimately only serve to cause her pain.

And the first step towards doing that was by proving that he understood how much she valued her job, by getting this case solved.

"Did you run a background check on Bruce Fredrickson?" he asked Nick. The man had cornered him again at the party last night, bought him a drink, and made the same kind of allusions to winning and fast living as he had the first time they'd met.

"Couple of assaults, the odd DUI, a few possession charges here and there. The guy's basically your garden-variety scumbag. I think he looks good for it."

Jane shook his head. Fredrickson didn't possess anywhere near the intelligence required to be the mastermind behind their cocaine ring. That was evident after speaking with him for only a few minutes.

"I think you'll find Fredrickson is just a messenger boy for someone else a lot smarter than he is, who's controlling everything from behind the scenes."

Nick scowled. "With all due respect to your psychic abilities, Jane, I'm not prepared to throw away a promising subject just because you think he's an idiot."

"One, there's no such thing as psychics. Two, _anyone_ who has had more than thirty seconds of conversation with him would agree that he is not the sharpest tool in the shed. And three, I have an idea how we can find out exactly who is calling the shots."

"And how is that?"

"Why don't you and I swing by old Bruce's place this afternoon and you'll find out."

* * *

"I don't like this."

Jane and Nick were sitting in Nick's car just across the street from Bruce Fredrickson's house. It had taken some persuading on Jane's part to get the FBI agent to consent to this scheme but after a few carefully-worded comments about how much a big bust like this would do for Nick's career prospects, he had won him over. Right from the start, he had suspected that Nick was the type who would do almost anything in the interests of career advancement. He longed for the accolades, the medals of valour, the certificates hanging on his office wall, so much so that it was possible to tweak his moral centre enough to get him to come around to Jane's way of thinking.

But the problem was that they had arrived to find Bruce not at home. Jane knew from experience that his plans should be executed as quickly as possible so as not to give the other people involved time to second-guess them. Now Nick it seemed had been struck with a classic case of cold feet.

"This is a really big risk," Nick went on. "If something goes wrong…"

"Everything's going to be fine," said Jane, bracingly. "Lisbon and I do this kind of thing all the time."

Did it count as lying if he chose not to mention that Lisbon usually only participated with great protest, and under false pretences? If he was the kind of person who cared about ethics, it might. But that was Lisbon's department, and though she invariably had a problem with his methods, she'd never yet questioned his results. And all he wanted to do was to get this case solved pronto, whisk her back to Sacramento and get started on the much more difficult task of convincing her to give him a chance.

But first things first.

"Seriously Jane," said Nick. "I really think we should call this in. Just in case."

"Go ahead, be my guest. But if you do that, just be prepared for the FBI to take all the credit when you make an arrest."

"That's not going to happen."

"Your loyalty is admirable, but seriously misconstrued. You think they're going to want to admit that one of their own agents actually took some initiative for once and went out and did something without waiting for orders? And on the say-so of a mere consultant no less? Trust me, you won't get a look in."

Nick chuckled. "You sure have issues with authority for somebody who works for a government agency."

"Yes but you see the advantage of being me, is that I can get away with saying and doing pretty much whatever I like, because unlike you, I have an indispensable skill."

Nick scoffed. "I don't know about skill but you sure as hell have an ego."

"Why? Because I told the truth? There are hundreds of FBI agents out there but only a handful of people in the world can do what I do. And that's why the CBI keeps me around."

"So they pay you to wreak havoc, and cause trouble for good honest cops?"

"No, they pay me to close cases, and close them fast. And as long as I keep doing that, they're not going to fire me."

"Do you have any appreciation for your job at all?" asked Nick, curiously. "Most agencies wouldn't go near someone like you with a ten-foot pole. You're a major liability, but the CBI still took you on. Aren't you even the slightest bit grateful?"

Jane mulled that over for a minute before answering.

"I like my job," he said eventually. "I like solving puzzles, and I get satisfaction from being right about things. I like doling out justice to people who deserve it. I'm glad that I work there, but that's about as far as it goes. At the end of the day, it's just a job."

"Well if that's how you feel, why don't you just quit and go your own way? Then you can be as big an asshole as you please without dragging other people down with you."

"And by 'people' you mean Lisbon?" said Jane, shrewdly.

"I don't know how she puts up with you." He paused for a minute, and then shook his head. "Then again, she always was a sucker for a lost cause. Thinks she can fix anything and anyone if she just tries hard enough."

'Yeah," said Jane, with half a smile. "I've never met anyone so goddamn stubborn."

Nick smirked to himself. "So that's why you're still hanging around, you have a thing for her. Well like I said, you ain't the first, and you won't be the last."

Jane didn't answer.

"Word to the wise," Nick went on. "You want what's best for her, you better get over this little infatuation of yours. You two are like chalk and cheese. She needs someone more on her wavelength."

Jane fumed silently in his seat. God, how he hated Nick Sheens right now. What did he know anyway? He'd been back in Lisbon's life for all of five minutes and thought he knew 'what was best for her?' The guy not only had no backbone and zero personality, he also had the presumption to think he could be the one to snatch away the woman of Jane's dreams. Well, that was not going to happen.

But before he had chance to make his thoughts known, a car sped down the street and pulled up in front of Fredrickson's house. They watched as Bruce got out and went inside.

Jane managed to beat back his fury at the man beside him. There'd be time enough later to get his revenge. For now, he had to focus on the job.

"So are you in or are you out?" he asked Nick.

"I told you, I don't know."

Jane blew out a sigh of frustration. "Look, all that's going to happen is Bruce and I are going to have a little chat. The only reason you're here is because if Lisbon knew I was going to a known criminal's house without backup, she'd flay me alive. She worries," he added, in response to Nick's raised eyebrow. "In the unlikely event things go pear-shaped, you can tell your supervisor that I made you do it. It's a win-win situation. Just stay in the car, and come in if I need you."

"And how will I know?"

Jane shrugged. "Instinct. Lisbon always seems to time it perfectly."

Finally, the other man nodded, and Jane was up and out of the car in an instant, lest he should change his mind again. He pounded on the front door for a minute until Fredrickson answered it.

"Hey there Bruce," Jane greeted him easily. "I was just passing through the neighbourhood and thought I'd drop by."

"How did you know where I live?" asked Fredrickson, thickly.

"You told me last night, at the party remember?" said Jane. "While we were having a drink. Remember?"

Fredrickson had a pained expression on his face as if straining to recall something. "Yeah, I remember," he said. "Come in."

It was just as Jane had hoped. Fredrickson had told him no such thing, but the fact that he'd been so eager to accept Jane's story was good news. His mental threshold was very low, the perfect candidate for suggestion.

He was sure that Lisbon would not have approved of what he was going to do next, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"I'd love to," said Jane. "But first, I need you to relax and to listen very carefully to the sound of my voice…"

* * *

Lunch with Meg was one of the most enjoyable afternoons Lisbon had had in a long time. It was so much easier to forget about all the angst and drama of the last few days when she was out of the house, and away from Jane, the main cause of all the trouble. In fact, she'd barely even thought about him at all, as she and Meg discussed everything from places they'd travelled to, to movies they'd seen, to their favourite foods.

As much as she wished this case to be over, she knew she would be sorry to leave Meg behind. In different circumstances, they could have been good friends.

Her cell phone rang just as their post-meal coffees arrived. Muttering an apology to Meg, she excused herself from the table and stepped outside to take the call.

"Lisbon."

"Hey, it's me," Nick's harassed voice was heard on the other end of the phone. "Thank God you picked up."

"Why? What happened?"

"Well, Jane and I were over at Bruce Fredrickson's place…"

"Fredrickson's?" she cut him off. "What the hell were you doing there?"

"Jane said he had an idea how to find out who was running the drug operation," Nick went on in a rush. "So we got there, and Jane did a bit of his hocus-pocus on him to get in the house…"

"You let him hypnotize someone?" Lisbon cut him off again, being very careful not to talk too loudly. "Nick how could you? It's completely unethical."

"Really not the point at the moment," he said hastily. "Anyway after about five minutes I can hear bangs and crashes and then Jane comes pelting out with a some guy waving a kitchen knife after him. I don't know what he did in there, but he obviously pissed them off pretty bad."

"Fantastic," said Lisbon quietly. "Is he OK?"

"A couple of cuts and bruises but he seems to be all right."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, I want him all in one piece so I can come and murder him myself. Where are you now?"

"Back at your place."

"OK," she took a deep breath and tried to gather her thoughts. "Wait there with him and watch him like a hawk, so he doesn't try and sneak off. I'll be back as soon as I can."

She swore as she hung up the phone. Yet again, Patrick Jane had found a way to ruin her day without being anywhere near her. It was a truly unique talent of his, and one she hated with a passion. Massaging her temples, she went back inside to tell Meg she couldn't stay for dessert. It was too bad. They'd ordered cheesecake. Jane was going to pay.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, she pulled up the SUV in the driveway and swept into the house to find both men sitting at the kitchen table. Nick got to his feet as she entered.

"I'm sorry," he said reaching out to touch her arm. "I should never have agreed to it."

"It's OK," she said, dodging the contact. "And I'm sorry too. I'll call you later, OK?"

"Sure."

He positively fled from the kitchen, as Lisbon turned blazing eyes on her consultant.

"And you," she snarled. "Is this your idea of acting more like a responsible adult, by putting yourself in danger? Again?"

"I was trying to speed things along," said Jane soothingly. "Granted, it got a little out of hand…"

"Out of hand?" she snapped angrily. "You nearly got yourself killed!"

He shrugged. "I've been in tighter corners then that."

An odd thing happened then. It was like all the fight and the anger went out of her as she looked at him with sadness instead.

"So this is the domestic bliss I was to expect from a relationship with you, is it? Coming home to someone who's willing to recklessly throw themselves into danger without a moment's thought, and then treating it like it's a joke. Guess I dodged a bullet on that one."

And she left the room.

* * *

**I'll admit, I'm not thrilled with this one. But here it is. We're coming to the business end of the case now and it should be resolved in the next chapter or two.**


	13. Chapter 13

**I just have to say once again, thank you all so much for your feedback. I've gotten more reviews for this story than anything I've ever written. I never dreamed I could ever write anything that would get over 200! And each new chapter, new people are alerting and favouriting. **

**Rating: T as usual for sexual references, a bit of coarse language and so on.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine.**

**

* * *

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Jane barely had a minute to be shocked at Lisbon's little tirade and subsequent exit before she returned with her hands full of items, which explained the banging and crashing of cupboard doors he'd been hearing while she was gone.

He chuckled to himself.

"You know, it kind of dilutes the effect of a dramatic storm-out when you come straight back."

She scowled at him as she put everything down on the table.

"Well I could hardly leave you in that state, could I?"

"What state?"

"You're bleeding." She pointed to his left arm. He looked down where she indicated and sure enough, a red stain was seeping through the sleeve of his shirt, which also sported a slash. How had he not noticed it before? Now she'd pointed it out, it was starting to hurt as well. He supposed the adrenaline of the last half-hour had delayed the onset of the pain.

"Damn, there goes another shirt," Jane muttered to himself. "I'm not going to have any left by the end of this thing."

"Claim the cost back as a work expense," said Lisbon, brusquely. "And roll up your sleeve."

"You don't have to mother me," he told her, as he did as she asked.

"Since I evidently can't leave you alone for a couple of hours without you getting yourself into trouble, apparently I do," said Lisbon as she inspected the wound. "You're lucky this isn't too deep. "

"It must've got nicked while I was running for my life," said Jane.

Rolling her eyes, Lisbon opened a bottle of antiseptic and swiped some of it along the length of the cut.

"Ow!" Jane shouted, as the antiseptic immediately started to sting.

"Oh, grow up," Lisbon snapped at him. "This is your own fault."

But he noticed that when she applied another swipe of antiseptic, her touch was a lot gentler then the first time. He fought back a smile.

"Technically, Nick's responsible for some of it too."

She scowled at him again. "Don't go blaming Nick for this. It's all on you."

"Well if he'd come inside when I needed him to; it never would have happened, and you could still be at lunch with Meg, enjoying whatever high-calorie dessert you tried to talk yourself out of getting for half an hour, but ended up ordering anyway. What was it, by the way?"

"Cheesecake," she said resentfully. "I saw them bringing it to the table just as I was leaving."

She had that look in her eyes, he noticed, the one she only got when she'd been denied a real treat. The last time he'd seen it was when the office coffeemaker had broken. He'd gone downstairs to the coffee cart right away and bought her one, just because he couldn't bear her disappointment one moment longer.

It upset him to think that he may have been the cause of it this time. So he decided he'd shift the blame over to Nick instead.

"I'm just saying; if 'Wonder Boy' Nick had been paying attention, you'd still be in that restaurant, instead of here playing nurse."

"Don't be condescending," she scolded him. "Nick is a good agent, and a good person."

"So a 'solid investment' then?" asked Jane, churlishly. Though he'd promised himself he was going to back off on this stuff until they got back to Sacramento, it had been bothering him all afternoon, and what better time to find out exactly how she felt, while she was here mopping up his wounds?

She took a sharp intake of breath but didn't answer as she reached for a bandage.

"So Nick's the kind of guy you see yourself with, then?" he ploughed on, annoyed that she hadn't reacted. "A buttoned-down workaholic just like you?"

"I've told you, Nick and I are just friends. Now hold still," she instructed as she began to wind the bandage around his forearm.

"You keep saying that, but for some reason he just keeps on showing up at the house and calling you all the time. That's one dedicated _friend_." He couldn't quite keep the resentment out of his voice at this.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Look, you can deny it all you want but that isn't going to make it go away."

She tied the bandage off firmly, and he winced with pain. She looked a little guilty as she tried to loosen the knot. While she was distracted, he tried his hardest to wipe the smirk off his face.

OK, so he may have been exaggerating the extent of the pain just a little bit, but in all fairness, anyone would enjoy having a beautiful woman fussing over them. Every second she was here with him, meant one less second she was spending with Nick. And if that wasn't a good excuse for a little theatricality, he didn't know what was.

"Better?" she asked him, as she finished retying it.

"Yes, much," he said, holding up his arm and inspecting her handiwork. "Hey that's a pretty neat job. Impressive."

"I had a lot of practice," she said. They both sensed a mention of her past in the offing, but neither was prepared to go down that road today.

"Well I think you picked the right career path," said Jane in an attempt to lighten the mood. "I don't think you'd have made much of a nurse; your bedside manner sucks."

She scoffed. "Like I'm about to take lessons from you about manners and decorum. It'd be like learning tolerance from the Nazis."

"Thus, proving my point," he said, smiling. "But if you wanted to make up for your bad attitude, I might be prepared to accept a 'get better' kiss."

He honestly hadn't meant to say that last part. All his good intentions for giving her time and space had simply flown out of his head. There'd always been something about her that made him go a little crazy, and with his brain already overloaded with everything else that had gone on this week, the words had just slipped out.

And now they wouldn't stop.

"A nice kiss on the lips would be best," he said. "But I suppose one on the cheek would do. Unless of course there's someone else you'd rather be kissing, assuming he can make time in his busy schedule of being a stuck-up asshole."

"Jane…"

"But hey, if that's what you want, I hope you'll both be satisfied with your 'solid investment' relationship. I suppose he'll put in a formal request whenever he wants to have sex with you, and pre-book it at least a week in advance. That's the _sensible_ thing to do after all. Can't let a silly thing like passion get in the way of order and reason, right?"

He watched the colour drain from her face, and he could see the panic in her eyes as she quickly grabbed up the spare bandages, antiseptic, and all the other stuff she'd borrowed from the first-aid kit.

"Don't go there," she said. "Please, just…don't."

This was all Nick's fault, Jane decided. Having to spend time with the man and listen to him practically _say_ that he and Lisbon didn't have a shot in hell together had made him so mad, and he hadn't got the opportunity to vent his frustrations then, so now Lisbon was copping the brunt of it instead.

But hadn't she essentially said the same thing last night? That she wasn't willing to take a gamble on him, on them? That he could never be enough for her, no matter how hard he tried, so they might as well not bother at all?

She would rather settle for being alone or in a relationship with someone that could never make her happy, rather than giving him a chance.

It was an unpleasant revelation for him. Never before had he known Teresa Lisbon to be such a coward.

He hated himself for even thinking such a thing; she was the bravest person he had ever met. She had faced down death more times than he could count without baulking, and he would never have imagined this of her: running scared rather than facing up to her feelings.

Well if she thought he was going to give up this easily, she was severely mistaken. He knew that she felt the same things he did, and he would do so until she convinced him otherwise. And until that day came, he would fight for her. She needed to understand that, and there was no time like the present.

He reached over and let his fingers gently graze the side of her hand. Her hand twitched at the contact and he heard her breathe in sharply as she tried to move it away. But he was ready for her, and captured her hand in his own, resting two of his fingers on the inside of her wrist.

"Your pulse is racing," he said. "Are you feeling uncomfortable about something?"

She tried again to pull her hand away but he held it tight. He looked at her face, until her eyes finally turned to meet his own. She held his gaze for only a second, but it was enough for him to see exactly what he was looking for.

"Your pupils are the size of saucers," he pointed out. "And you know what they say about pupil dilation."

She pulled away again, harder this time, and managed to wrench her hand out of his grasp. She got up from her chair as quickly as if it had just been electrified and fled up the stairs.

He found her a minute later in the bathroom, supporting her weight against the sink, drawing in short, and shallow breaths.

"Shortness of breath?" he asked her, as she turned around to face him. "That's the trifecta. You know what I think? I think I make you nervous."

She shook her head, but as though she didn't really believe what she did.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he said, as he walked towards her. "Go on, say it."

"You're wrong." There was no certainty in her words.

"You're lying to me, Lisbon. Ill-advised at the best of times, but right now? You really thought you could get it by me?"

She swallowed and seemed to gather up all her resolve.

"That's enough now," she said, with a reasonable attempt at authority. "You've made your point."

He was even closer to her now, their noses only millimetres apart from each other.

"Let me just make it crystal clear," he said. "This feeling we're experiencing right now is what they call chemistry. This is what a relationship is supposed to be about, to be able to look at another person and want them more than anything or anyone else in the world. And all the reason and logic in the world isn't going to give you this feeling. It can't be created or controlled, not even by you. It just happens."

"It _can_ be controlled," she said defiantly. "And it will be. For both of our sakes."

"The way you were screaming in bed the other night, that's what you call 'control,?'" he asked, and she immediately turned red. "I can be a better man for you, Teresa, if you'll just let me try. Good judgement can be taught, but passion, like this? It's either there or it's not."

He leaned towards her, seeing her lips part in anticipation, but stopping just shy of meeting them with his own. The tiniest fraction more, and he'd be kissing her again (and oh Lord, how he wanted to, it had been way too long since the last time he'd kissed her.) He forced himself not to close the gap between them, and let the bait sit there a moment.

To his satisfaction, she soon became impatient, and shifted her face forward slightly, in order to finish the job herself. Ignoring his instinct to just kiss her already, he pulled away from her, registering her involuntary moan of disappointment.

"Think about that," he said, and left the bathroom.

As he walked away, he felt a smile spread across his face. He was still in the game.

* * *

Lisbon listened to his footsteps die away and then turned on the tap. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping the shock of the icy liquid on her skin would help to clear her head. She'd nearly lost it there. He'd pulled one of his mind tricks on her, and yet again, she'd let herself fall under his spell. She didn't know how much longer she could remain steadfast against the Jane charm offensive, at least not while he continued throwing everything he had at her, non-stop.

And what was this problem he seemed to have with Nick? She could practically hear the venom in his voice whenever they discussed the FBI agent, and she'd seen the hatred in his eyes. Not that it was any of his business, but he had no reason to be jealous. She and Nick were friends and nothing more.

Perhaps Jane had concocted this whole rivalry with Nick to avoid facing up to the real reason she had told him they could never be together. It was easier for him to make Nick the bad guy rather than admit to his own fatal flaws. She turned off the tap, scowling. That was just like him, stirring the pot, and when things went wrong, blaming it on everybody but himself.

Nick had nothing to do with this; he was just the unfortunate person who had become the scapegoat for Jane's misplaced anger. Whatever their issues, the only people concerned here were Jane and herself, and nobody else. And it was about time for him to start accepting that.

Having composed herself, she walked back down the stairs to the kitchen where she found him making himself a cup of tea. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"Do you know what I'm curious about right now?" he asked, as he took the teabag out of the cup and threw it in the sink.

"What?" she asked, snappishly.

"I wondering why you haven't asked me how I ended up running out of a house at knifepoint."

"Maybe I don't want to know," she said, folding her arms across her chest. She was slightly thrown by the sudden change of subject. Twenty seconds ago, he was trying to seduce her in the bathroom and now here he was drinking tea and talking about the case like nothing had happened. She wished she could turn her emotions on and off that easily; it would make her life so much simpler.

"Liar," he said, grinning at her. "You want to know very much, in fact you've been forcing yourself not to ask this whole time so as not to give me the satisfaction."

She glared at him. "I assume there _is_ a reason for today's brush with death?"

"Of course," he said, beaming at her. "I wanted to find out what Bruce Fredrickson's part is in all this. So I asked him."

"After you hypnotised him, of course. Which I have expressly told you a million times not to do."

"Yes, but Lisbon dear, you weren't supposed to know about it. I told Sheens to leave that part out after he insisted on calling you, but naturally he ignored me."

"And so he should!" said Lisbon. "I would have found out eventually, and then I would've been mad at him as well as you. Now I hope you found out something useful for all the trouble you've caused. Nick didn't mention anything."

He smiled at her. "As it happens, I believe I know who our drug trafficker may be. Of course it's only a hunch at this stage, but given my outstanding track record of my hunches being correct-"

Lisbon rolled her eyes at his arrogance. "If you don't say so yourself."

"Don't try and make me feel guilty about appreciating my own brilliance, Lisbon. It won't work. Anyway, based on the great likelihood that I'm right about this-"

Lisbon sighed. Jane ignored her.

"-all we need is a carefully devised plan to get the suspect to incriminate themselves."

"And who is it, then?"

"Can't tell you. It'll ruin the surprise."

She laughed under her breath.

"Translation: you're covering your ass in case you're wrong. Please tell me you have at least one piece of evidence supporting your theory."

Jane opened his mouth.

"And anything Fredrickson said under hypnosis doesn't count," she added, firmly.

"Killjoy," Jane complained. "But luckily, my hypothesis isn't based on that. It's based on the other man."

"The one with the knife?"

He nodded. "A charming young man by the name of Hugh Marshall."

"What about him?"

"He's obviously involved in this somehow."

"And how do you know?"

"He had that cokehead look about him," said Jane, airily. "Anyone could have spotted it from a mile off. While I was talking to Bruce, he got a call on his cell, thinking he was being very secretive by talking in whispers, and glancing over at me all the time. Clearly he was hiding something, so naturally my interest was piqued."

"Naturally," said Lisbon sarcastically. "So what happened?"

"I waited until he left the room, and then I swiped it."

He reached into his pocket and showed it to her.

"You stole it?" asked Lisbon, pinching the bridge of her nose, the way she always did when she had a headache coming on. "Couldn't we just have pulled his phone records?"

"Nah, it would've taken too long. This way we get the information twice as fast."

"But it's illegal."

"Really? I had no idea, thanks for clearing that up," Jane deadpanned. "Anyway the knife bit happened after that. I might have called him a 'cantankerous narcissist without enough brains to fill a teaspoon."

"And what possessed you to do that?"

"He insulted my suit."

"The ultimate crime."

"Anyway when I got a chance to go through the phone, I checked the call log. Lots of calls to the same number. So I rang it to find out who it was."

"Again, information we could've gotten from phone records."

"But not as quickly," he pointed out.

"And who was it?" she asked.

He smiled at her again. "Patience my dear. All will be revealed in due course."

"Don't screw around with me, Jane. If you don't tell me, I'll just call Nick instead."

"Waste of time. I waited until he was on the phone with you before I did it. He doesn't have a clue." He snorted. "I wasn't about to tell him."

"This is his case too. He has a right to know!"

"Perhaps. But he's not my partner, you are. And this is _our_ case. He's just here to babysit."

"Since when have you ever given a damn about jurisdiction?"

"I don't. But you do. You were furious when you found out we were going to have an FBI liaison, but as soon as it turned out to be Nick, you couldn't have been happier to have him along."

"Nothing wrong with an extra pair of hands."

She was trying to deflect him again, so he immediately set out to call her on it.

"But it's more than that, and you know it. Ever since we started this case he has been calling the shots, telling us where we should go and who we should talk to. And the Teresa Lisbon I know would never stand for that."

He had seen it in many previous cases they had worked together. Anybody foolish enough to think they could walk all over her was quickly and firmly put in their place. He always loved watching it happen. Her eyes would narrow, she would draw herself up to her full height and within a few well-chosen sentences, the other person would be left in no doubt of just how gravely they had underestimated her.

He was intrigued at the number of law enforcement professionals they'd met who just didn't seem to know how to react to a strong woman like Lisbon. She'd been met with disbelief, resentment, even full-blown anger but she always took it in her stride and in the end, no matter how hostile they'd been in the beginning, she always left with their respect.

For his part, Jane loved watching her when she was fired up and kicking some sexist small-town sheriff ass. There was something immensely satisfying about seeing her cut them down to size. Not to mention the fact that it was also sexy as hell.

There was something about the fire she got in her eyes when she was mad, and her take-no-prisoners attitude. Lesser men would find it threatening; he found it irresistible.

That was why it confused him so much to see her pay deference to Sheens. To be fair, she hadn't relinquished a lot of the power dynamic but for a control freak like Lisbon, even giving one inch was a major achievement. They'd liaised with the FBI on other cases before, so it couldn't be that. No, it had to be something personal.

"What is it with this guy?" he asked her, curiously. "It's like he can do no wrong in your eyes."

"My relationship with Nick has nothing to do with this case."

His gaze probed hers.

"Are you sure about that?"

She glared at him.

"We're not going to talk about this. It has no bearing on the case and it's none of your business anyway."

He could tell that this wasn't one of those occasions when he'd be able to find out everything he wanted if he just poked and prodded enough. Her body language was closed off, and she was averting her gaze from his. She didn't trust him; that was the core of it. She'd been telling him for years that she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him, but in instances like this, when she proved it, it shook his confidence hard.

He didn't like it when she hid things from him like this. He wanted her to feel that she was able to trust him, like he trusted her. He told her more about his past and his plans then anyone else. Sure he didn't tell her everything, but the things he kept from her were for her benefit. She didn't need to hear about his stay in the psychiatric hospital or the particulars of what he planned to do to Red John when he finally caught him. Those were his crosses to bear, alone.

But on the rare occasion that he needed to talk to someone, or explain himself she was the one he would go to every time.

"And does that work both ways?" he asked her now.

She looked confused. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Well you seem pretty definite when you tell me not to interfere with you and Nick. Perhaps you can tell him to do the same with regards to you and me."

She raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Oh yes," he went on. "Turns out he had a lot to say. Guess I'm not the only one who gives opinions when they're not wanted, huh?"

"What did he say to you?"

"Doesn't matter. But we had a frank discussion."

"About what?"

"Come on, Lisbon. What do you_ think_ we talked about? The two of us have exactly one thing in common, and she's standing right in front of me."

There was a slight pause. "You talked about me?"

"Yes. Well actually he tried to warn me off you. Seems to think that I'm no good for you, and that you can do better."

"He said that?"

"Yep, but he didn't really need to. His body language was screaming it out. Luckily, I don't give a damn about what he thinks or if he trusts me or not. The only person's opinion and trust I care about is yours."

"Well you have a hell of a way of showing it."

"Look," he said. "I have an idea for us to catch this person out. We could have this done by tomorrow night, but you have to go with me on this. Trust me."

* * *

Lisbon spent the rest of the afternoon quizzing him about what exactly he had in mind, but infuriatingly, he sidestepped the questions, refusing to give her clear answers and making her even more confused in the process. She'd feel a whole lot better about all this if he'd let her in on it.

He had a lot of nerve lecturing her about trust, when he didn't even see fit to tell her about whatever nefarious plan he had in mind for them tonight. But the thing was, in matters like this, she did trust him.

When it came to deception and trickery, he knew exactly what he was doing and always had. If ever there was somebody would could pull a fast one on you without you even realizing it, it would be Patrick Jane. So in cases like these, where there was a web of secrecy to be untangled, there was no better candidate.

She knew he could manipulate, twist things around, turn friend against friend. Hell, he'd looked her in the eyes many times and she knew he was lying right to her face, but 9 times out of 10, he'd still convince her to do whatever it was he wanted.

In undercover work, Jane was the ultimate asset, a skilled conman who knew exactly what control he could exert over people and didn't hesitate in using it.

But the very same qualities that made him so good at what he did, were what drove her to keep him at arm's length in her personal life.

She could trust him to be a good liar; that was the long and short of it. But that was as far as it went. Because how was she supposed to know how to make a pathological liar stop lying? He could gaze at her with those eyes and flash her that oh-so-innocent smile and say sweet things to her, but she could never be sure if he meant it or if it were part of some ploy or other.

She did care for him very much, perhaps even loved him, for she'd never felt this way about anyone else she'd ever met, and probably never would again. And he said all the right things, and his kisses were addictive, and the way he looked at her sometimes (which contrary to popular belief, she had noticed) did something to her head that made it all fuzzy and strange and made her heart skip a beat.

If she were a romantic person, that would be more than enough for her to feel secure that he did care for her as much as he claimed. But she wasn't. Any belief she might have had in seeing the good in all people had been blown out of her at twelve when her mother was taken from her, and her father had preferred to beat the crap out of herself and her brothers, rather than step up to his responsibilities.

She'd wanted to believe that he might come around after a while and that they could be a family again but a couple of years later, he was dead too and leaving her to be the primary caregiver to three children, while still a child herself. She'd never quite forgiven her father for that, and as a result, she'd sworn to herself never to allow blind faith to cloud her judgement ever again. Since then, she'd bestowed her trust on precious few people in her life, and those people were given one chance, and one chance only.

It had never been such a problem until she'd met Jane. He was everything that she knew was bad for her, reckless and revenge-driven and guarded. But she'd wanted him anyway. And she really wanted to believe that he had changed over the years, and that she might have had something to do with that. And that somehow they could have something real. And so she'd made excuses for him, lied to everyone around her, pointedly looked the other way when she knew he was about to do something she wouldn't be able to forgive, almost anything to avoid cutting him out of her life entirely.

But she refused to go through what she went through with her father again. She couldn't be with Jane without trusting him, and she couldn't trust him without some sort of proof that she meant to him what he meant to her. What kind of proof, she couldn't be sure.

But one thing she was sure of, if he couldn't give her that, they simply had no future together.

She'd trust him with their case tonight, but with her heart, she was taking no chances.

She went to look for Jane, and eventually found him on the couch flicking disinterestedly through the channels on the TV.

"OK, I'm in," she said, regretting it already. "This plan had better work."

Jane beamed at her. "Of course it'll work," he said. "Have a little faith."

She sighed. "Fine," she said. "What do I have to have to do?"

* * *

The street where Jane and Lisbon's house stood was regarded as a relatively quiet one by L.A standards. Of course, that simply meant that one had to look a little harder to find the things to gossip about. They were still there of course, just well-concealed, and nothing got people talking faster then a domestic dispute. That night the residents were treated to a doozy.

Nobody really knew much about the couple who had just moved in to Number 17. They'd seen them out every now and then, at Annabelle's party and Iridissia, but for the most part, they kept to themselves. It also seemed that their marriage was a strong one; which was a shame as several of the women on the street were rather taken with the gorgeous new neighbour, but had to content themselves with checking him out from a distance while the wife got to have him all to herself.

It figured that the most desirable man on the street would also be the only husband in a five-block radius that didn't seem at all inclined to stray from his wife. Nobody who'd seen the adoring way he'd looked at her at Annabelle's party could have been in any doubt.

Which was why it was a surprise when night fell, to hear raised voices floating through the window of Number 17, accompanied by the odd smash of china every now and then. Perhaps there was more to this seemingly perfect couple then met the eye.

"So when were you going to tell me that we were late on our credit card repayment?" they heard the man's voice shout.

"Probably around the same time you were going to tell me that you've gone and boozed away half our salary, you irresponsible asshole," the female voice retorted.

Oh, the joys of living in the suburbs.

* * *

Crash. Another plate hit the floor with force and shattered into pieces.

"Is it really necessary to destroy all these plates?" Lisbon asked Jane. "You do realise we're going to have to reimburse the CBI for all these, right?"

"All in the name of solving the case, my dear," he said. "We need the plates for authenticity. And speaking of which, we should probably yell at each other some more."

She frowned. "Would you believe I'm running out of ideas? It's so much harder abusing you when it's fake."

He chuckled. "Sorry. Luckily I've got a good one."

He raised his voice again. "This place is filthy again!" he shouted, "Do you do anything while I'm not here other than sleeping around?"

"Thanks a lot," she muttered to him. "Did you have to make me a tramp?" She thought for a moment, and then a wicked smile crossed her face.

"Well if you were any good in bed I wouldn't have to go elsewhere would I? Sometimes it's good to be with a real man, or at least someone who can last longer than two minutes!"

She shot a triumphant look at Jane, who winced.

"Ouch," he said, stung. "I know it's only fake but that one hurt."

"Sorry," she said quickly. "That was a little harsh."

"Yes," Jane agreed, but his relief quickly turned to alarm. "Seriously though, I wasn't that bad was I?"

"Really?" said Lisbon rolling her eyes. "You really want to discuss this now?"

"Well it's not something a guy generally likes to hear," said Jane. "And cut me some slack, I'm a little out of practice."

"For heaven's sake, Jane. I'm acting," said Lisbon irritably. "Stop being so oversensitive."

He would have preferred 'No Patrick, you're the best I've ever had," but he figured that was the best he was going to get right now.

"Shall we break another plate?" he asked, and Lisbon looked like she was fighting with herself about something.

"Can I do the next one?" she eventually burst out, and Jane smirked.

A moment later, another crash of breaking china rang out.

* * *

After another couple of minutes of hurling insults at one another, and when three more plates had bitten the dust, it was time for the coup de grace.

"You know what?" Jane bellowed through the quiet night air. "I don't have to put up with this crap anymore Rachel. You and I are through!"

"Well that's fine with me!" Lisbon shouted back. "Get the hell out of my house!"

"Nice," Jane remarked, back in his normal voice again. "Short, concise. You make a very convincing angry wife Lisbon."

"Well it was easy to get into character. Yelling at you is just like another day at the office."

They smiled at each other.

"All right," he said. "I'm going to go now. Be ready to follow."

"OK," she said. "Good luck, and please be careful."

"Anything for you, my darling wife," he said, winking at her and then leaving the house, slamming the door behind him.

He'd been outside for less than thirty seconds when the door to the next house opened, and Annabelle Beckett came hurrying out of it, just as he'd expected.

"Will!" she said, as she came over to him. "Are you OK? What happened?"

"You heard that?" asked Jane, morosely.

"Well yes," she said, echoing his sad tone, but he could see the suppressed glee around her eyes, and saw just a ghost of a smile on her face. He wasn't surprised. He figured that he'd been one of very few people to reject her advances and that someone like her, who liked to be in everybody's business and be in control wouldn't be able to handle that. "You guys were being kind of loud."

"Sorry," he said. "It's just that ever since we came here, Rachel hasn't been the same. It's like she's become a different person."

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, laying on the misery as thick as it would go. "Do yourself a favour and don't ever get married."

"You poor baby," Annabelle cooed, reaching over to stroke his hair. The only way he could restrain himself from brushing her hand away was by pretending it was Lisbon instead. "I always knew that woman wasn't good enough for you."

Jane fought back a little pocket of anger, mixed in with a desire to laugh. The idea that Lisbon wasn't good enough for a screw-up like him was ridiculous, when in truth, the situation was quite the reverse.

"You know what you need?" Annabelle asked, finally taking her hand away. "You need cheering up. Why don't you and I go for a little pick-me-up, hmm?"

"Sounds good," said Jane. "Thank you Annabelle. You're a good friend."

Well that was a lie. But it was necessary in order to keep it going, so he kept the contempt in his voice to a minimum. And just to kick it up a notch, he shot her a glowing smile as well. But not his best one, that one was reserved exclusively for the real woman in his life, who he felt sure was watching from out of the kitchen window.

Annabelle "Don't you worry," she said. "Soon you're going to feel all better."

She leaned over once again, and this time, he had no choice but to allow her to kiss his cheek. "Be right back," she said as she drew away, batting her eyelashes. "I'm just going to get my car."

The moment she was out of earshot, Jane pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed one on his speed-dial.

"How am I doing?" he asked, as the call connected.

"She's eating it up," said Lisbon. "But you're laying it on a little thick, aren't you?" she added, resentfully.

He chuckled. "What are you, jealous?"

"No," she said, a little too quickly, and he was glad for the dimness so she wouldn't see him smirk.

"OK, me and Annabelle are going on a little field trip now. Get ready to follow."

"Will do." A pause. "Jane, are you sure this is going to work?"

"Course it is," he said confidently. "It has to. It's the only idea we've got."

They heard the electric door to Annabelle's garage begin to move.

"That's my cue," said Jane. "Gotta go."

"OK. But please Jane, I am begging you: be careful. I don't want to have to patch you up again."

He smiled. Ah Lisbon, always worrying. "I'll be fine. Because this time I have you watching my back."

He looked towards the window where he guessed she was standing, and blew her a kiss.

Annabelle's car horn blared, and he snapped his phone shut and went to join her.

* * *

"**What's this?" I hear you say. "She actually made some actual case development happen in this chapter rather than just focusing on Jisbon?"**

**I know. I'm in shock too.**

**I hope you enjoyed it, and there'll be more soon.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine.**

**Thanks to everyone who's been giving feedback. You guys are as awesome as Cho, and I love your reviews as much as Jane loves his couch, Lisbon loves her coffee, and Rigsby loves Van Pelt. And that's a lot.**

* * *

Lisbon watched from behind the curtain as Jane opened the passenger door of Annabelle's car (and of course, a woman like her _would_ drive a red Porsche) and smiled at Annabelle as he got inside.

She still wasn't sure about this plan for several reasons, but primarily because since it was only the two of them, if something went wrong they were on their own, with no back-up or assistance anywhere near. She knew she was probably being paranoid, she and Jane had done this kind of thing together plenty of times before, but for some reason she had a bad feeling about it tonight.

That was a far better excuse for her than the actual reason for her considerable distress, being the fact that Jane and Annabelle would be spending an extended period of time together. It was no secret that the blonde had taken a great interest in Jane right from the moment they'd met and now she had him alone and (to her knowledge) heartbroken in her car, there was no telling what she might do.

Lisbon had seen the predatory gleam in Annabelle's eye at the party when she looked at Jane and her frosty attitude towards herself could hardly have her believe that Annabelle could see her as anything but a rival. It had been easy to dismiss it then, with Jane by her side and thoroughly unresponsive to the other woman's advances, but now, what was to stop him seeking solace in the arms of another woman if he so chose?

He'd offered himself to her, practically begged her to give him a chance, and she'd turned him down flat. She'd rejected him, and therefore if he decided he did want to be with Annabelle (or any of the many other women who fell prey to that smile, and those sad eyes) she knew she had absolutely no right to be upset.

Unfortunately, knowing that in her head wasn't the same as knowing that in her heart and the thought of him with Annabelle or anyone else made her feel uneasy. As the car pulled away from the house she hurried out to the driveway to get the SUV, hoping against hope that this plan was going to work.

* * *

Jane was interested to discover that Annabelle had a taste for hip-hop music; (he'd had her pegged as the classical type,) and for a while they drove without speaking, and he concentrated on the pounding beats of the bass to entertain himself.

They glided to a stop at a red light, and Annabelle reached over to turn the music down.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked him, bluntly.

"What?" he said, taken aback by the question.

"Do you want to talk about the fight, or would you prefer to sit and brood?" she said. "Your choice."

"I'm OK," he deflected.

Annabelle scoffed as the light turned green and she pressed on the accelerator. "No you're not," she said. "I can see you're hurting. Is she always that cruel to you?"

"She's not cruel," said Jane, feeling the need to defend Lisbon despite the fact the whole thing had been fake. "She's just unfailingly honest, and sometimes the truth is hard to hear."

Annabelle shot him a sidelong glance, half-surprised, half-pitying. "She spent the last half-hour tearing strips off you and you're still defending her? You can do better than her, Will. I've always wondered what a handsome man like you could possibly want with a woman as plain as her, and a control-freak to boot."

Jane could have given her a list as long as his arm of Lisbon's many and varied attractions as well as a whole host of reasons why he found her one of the most beautiful women he'd ever known but it wouldn't do much for keeping his cover, so he played along.

"We met a few years ago." That part at least was no lie; the next month would mark the fourth anniversary of the day they'd met. "We got married on a stupid whim, and when I realized what I'd let myself in for it was already too late."

They were stopped at another light, so she reached over and patted his shoulder consolingly, but he could tell she was enjoying every moment of this; her triumph.

"I know how it feels to be in a bad relationship," she said sympathetically. "But you know I'll always be around to help you pick up the pieces."

That, he believed to be sincere. In fact, if she hadn't made another pass at him by the end of the night, he would be very much surprised.

They drove for another five minutes and eventually pulled up outside a house on a quiet little side street. Annabelle smiled at him as she turned off the engine.

"This is one of my friend's houses," she said. "We're gonna go in, have a few drinks, blow off a little steam, and I guarantee that by the end of the night you'll have forgotten all about that horrible wife of yours."

It was hard to keep the smile on his face, and not to rise to the constant abuse of Lisbon, but he knew he had to in order to stay in character so he swallowed the retort that was forming on his lips and got out of the car. Annabelle's eyes lit up when he offered her his arm and she seized it with no hesitation.

Forcing himself not to cringe as she clutched his arm with a far stronger force than he had anticipated, they began to make their way up the front walk.

* * *

Parked in the shadows across the street, Lisbon rolled her eyes as Jane and his 'fair maiden' for the evening walked towards the house. It seemed his trusty 'chivalry' routine was once again working like a charm. Within a few minutes, Annabelle would be putty in his hands. It was amazing to Lisbon that all it took was a few kind words and an offered arm to have women falling all over themselves for her consultant. Whatever had happened to self-respect?

She herself was perfectly capable of paying for her own meal in restaurants and carrying her own bags and she took pride in her independence. (Secretly though, she had to admit, Jane's habit for opening doors for her was kind of nice, and occasionally useful in the event that her hands were full.)

In fact, if pressed, she would have to say she was quite fond of Jane's chivalrous side. But she was different from those other women because she knew what they didn't; that all the smiles and charm were just a smokescreen for a deeply unhappy (and extremely angry) man.

But he didn't seem unhappy right now. In fact, you could be forgiven for thinking he didn't have a care in the world as he laughed at something Annabelle said to him. The uneasy feeling in her stomach increased twofold as a giggling Annabelle tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder so it shimmered in the light cast from the nearby streetlamp.

Did this woman have no shame? As far as Annabelle knew 'Will' was a married man and here she was simpering and flirting with him less than an hour after the supposed breakdown of his relationship. They'd made it to the door now and Lisbon was pleased to see Annabelle had to let go of Jane's arm in order to knock. Unfortunately, while they waited for it to open, she compensated by turning to him and placing a quick kiss on his lips.

That part hurt her to watch. Sure, she'd said they couldn't be together but that didn't mean she was OK with watching another woman throw herself at him. It wasn't fair. Just like always, she'd done the right thing, made the sensible decision. And now she was reaping her reward; getting to watch some random rich skank take the man she loved right out from under her.

She supposed it was something she was going to have to get used to from now on. It might be all pretend for now, but sooner or later there really would be someone else. She couldn't expect him to still want her after she'd rejected him, no matter how badly it felt to think of some other woman coming into his life and making him smile, and being his confidante. Taking her place.

* * *

Jane was glad for the brevity of his kiss with Annabelle, for it seemed that all the guilt that was mysteriously absent when he kissed Lisbon, made itself known with full force.

With Lisbon it had just felt…right. Like everything was the way it should be, as natural as breathing. Kissing Annabelle had made him feel almost like he was cheating on her, or maybe just that he was cheating himself.

There was only one woman who he wanted to be kissing. The one not by his side right now, but out there somewhere in the darkness, watching and waiting. The one he loved more than anyone on this earth, and as bad luck would have it, the one he could not have. That brain of hers had gotten in the way and she'd never be his.

Maybe it would be easier just to accept that. Find some way to cope with the fact that he'd have to see her every day, and talk with her and laugh with her and lose himself in her eyes, and at the end he would be going home alone, only for it all to happen again the next day, a vicious holding pattern that would only be broken when someone else took her away from him for good.

But he'd promised himself. When they got back to Sacramento he would try again, one last time. Of one thing he was sure, either way it turned out, this was the end of the line for him in the love department. He was done. He'd already sworn off love once, but Lisbon coming into his life had forced him to make an exception. If that didn't work out, he could look forward to years of solitude perhaps with the odd date or one night stand here and there, but he'd make damn sure never to put himself through this again. It was just too hard.

And the chances of ever coming across someone else like her again? Astronomical.

Annabelle tugged on his hand, forcing his thoughts back onto the task at hand.

"You seem a little distracted," she said. "Are you OK?"

He forced a smile. "I'm fine."

He knew his response would have sounded less than enthusiastic, but Annabelle didn't seem to notice, as the door was pulled open.

"Anna!" squealed the young woman behind it, throwing her arms around Annabelle. "And you brought a friend." She surveyed Jane approvingly. "You always did know how to pick them."

"Poor Will's nursing a broken heart," said Annabelle, barely containing her glee. "He's feeling a little down, so I thought I'd help him out."

With a knowing smile, the woman stepped back and allowed them to enter the house.

* * *

Thirty-five boring minutes had passed for Lisbon since her consultant and Annabelle had disappeared inside the house. She alternated between curiosity about what they were doing and (when that put unpleasant pictures in her mind) thinking that she didn't want to know.

Used to basking in Jane's undivided attention, she hated the thought of it being bestowed on someone else, in particular an entitled, home-wrecking bitch like Annabelle, who seemed to think it was perfectly within her rights to take what wasn't hers. In her experience, that seemed to be a common trait in rich people.

To distract herself, she watched as the same young woman who had answered the door earlier came out of it again and lit up a cigarette. After a few minutes, Annabelle who to Lisbon's surprise had detached herself from Jane joined her. The two women chatted briefly, and then retreated into the shadows at the side of the house. Lisbon could just make out their silhouettes in the dimness. If she had to bet, she'd say they'd exchanged something.

Her police instincts instantly threw up a red flag, and her whole body tensed up with excitement at what she'd just seen.

A good start, but not quite enough. Their objective was to catch their dealer in the act of selling to them, the only way they might have enough leverage to get them to give up the rest of the syndicate. But how? Brightened by the thought that she might be putting Annabelle in handcuffs very soon, she considered it.

She needed Jane to confirm that her suspicions were correct, before she tried to make an arrest, and she didn't want him making accusations of potentially dangerous people without her there to keep an eye on him. She needed to get to him, to get inside, but to do that, she needed a pretext.

The motion-detecting light above the door suddenly switched on as the two women emerged from the shadows, flooding the surrounding area with brilliance. The ring on her left hand gleamed like the sun. And she knew what she had to do. She wondered why it had taken her so long to think of it.

For in a situation like this, when another woman had gotten her claws into her man, what was _any_ self-respecting wife to do?

* * *

It was times like this when Jane was infinitely glad he wasn't actually a cop. There were far less rules. And being forced to endure Annabelle's increasingly aggressive come-ons required the use of liquid courage that the average 'on-duty' cop was not allowed to utilize. Even though he wasn't all that much of a drinker most of the time, in cases like this he made an exception.

Annabelle was winding back through the crowd to his side again, a fresh glass of wine in her hand. He made himself smile at her as she sat down next to him.

"Feeling better?" she asked him in a gentle voice.

"Not really," he said, truthfully. "But thanks, Annabelle, I needed this."

"You know what the quickest way is to get over someone?" she said, taking his hand in hers. "In the arms of someone else."

He forced a laugh. "Funny."

"I'm serious," she said. "Let me help you, Will. We could be great together, and I'd never treat you the way she does."

He was saved from answering by a raised voice at the door.

"Look, I know he's in here, and if you don't get out of my way right now, I'm going to kick _your_ ass as well as his."

Several people who had been blocking his view of the speaker scattered as to his utter astonishment, Lisbon came striding across the room to where he and Annabelle sat.

"What the hell is going on here?" she demanded of him.

"I could ask you the same question," he said, confused at her sudden appearance and now very aware that his hand was still trapped in Annabelle's.

"I have to hand it to you Will, you don't waste any time," she said, angrily. "Does our marriage mean so little to you that you'll replace me with the first skank that comes along?"

Annabelle scowled, and Jane pulled his hand free. "It's not what it looks like," he protested, as a crowd gathered around them.

"The hell it isn't!" she shouted back at him. "Or do you expect me to believe that you two are 'just friends?'"

Still with no idea of what exactly was going on, Jane decided his best bet was to play along for now and ask questions later.

"I have never cheated on you, nor would I ever cheat on you," he said. "I'm not that kind of person."

He thought he caught a tiny hint of a smile on her face as he said this, telling him he'd done the right thing by going along with her little rant.

"Well excuse me for being a little confused about that with you sitting here all cosy with _her_," she snarled at him viciously. He felt Annabelle draw back in her seat just a fraction as Lisbon turned her furious glare on her for a second. He could hardly blame her. An angry Lisbon could be a frightening sight for those not used to it. "Four years of marriage, Will. Did it mean so little to you that you really want to throw it all away for the likes of her?"

He noted with interest that she had dated their 'marriage' as lasting four years, the very amount of time they had been working together. Obviously he wasn't the only one who'd been keeping track.

"It's not about her," he snapped back at her. "It's about _us_ Rachel, and it always has been. We've been having problems for a while. All we do is fight, and bicker."

That was true. No need to mention it was one of his favourite parts. But he thought she had caught the double meaning, he saw her smile again for a minute.

"And this is your magical resolution?" she asked. "Just walking out and refusing to deal with it in the hopes that it'll go away? Because it doesn't work like that."

"Walked out? If I remember rightly, you threw me out, not two hours ago."

Annabelle put her arm around him and gave him a consoling little squeeze as he said this.

* * *

Forget uneasiness in her stomach, thought Lisbon, now she was feeling just plain sick.

She envied Annabelle for the ease of her situation; it must be wonderful to simply see something, and want it, and know that if only you waited long enough the planets would align and you would get it.

They looked convincing, sitting there together on a couch, in each other's arms. Jane smiled at Annabelle as she patted his arm consolingly.

They looked like a couple.

It was like seeing a glimpse of everything she could have had by now, had she chosen it. And oh, how she wanted it.

"I think you should leave Rachel," Annabelle spoke up now. "This party is for _invited_ guests only."

The smugness in her voice made Lisbon have to physically restrain herself once again, from reaching over and slapping her one. But this was neither the time nor the place, to become a slave to her emotions.

Besides, if her suspicions were correct, Annabelle would be getting her come-uppance soon enough.

She turned her eyes firmly away from the other woman, pretending not to hear, and fixed them on Jane instead.

"So this is your choice then, is it?" she asked. She wondered if he suspected the turmoil that was going on in her mind right now. Probably. He had that knowing gleam in his eye.

"Yes," he said firmly, and beside him, Annabelle lit up with instant joy.

"Fine. I hope Annabelle has a place for you in _her_ bed, because I can tell you right now, there's no way you're coming back into mine!"

Then she turned on her heel and stormed out the front door.

* * *

"I should go after her," said Jane, after a minute.

"Don't bother," said Annabelle. "She's an adult, she'll deal with it."

"Yeah, she'll deal with it by destroying everything I own," said Jane, shrugging off her arm and standing up. "I've got to try and calm her down a bit."

"Want me to come with you?"

"I think that would just piss her off even more. Stay here, I'll be back in a little while."

He got outside, and saw the SUV parked in the shadows across the street. When he reached it, it was to find Lisbon in the driver's seat, drumming her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

"Well that sure was quite a performance," he remarked. "Guess all that 'acting' in high school really paid off."

She smirked.

"So was there some reason for the crazy wife routine?"

She quickly told him all about what she'd seen half an hour earlier.

"And your suspicion of her all comes down to keen instinct and detective skills of course?" enquired Jane.

"Of course."

He didn't quite believe that. He knew she'd been upset at seeing him with Annabelle. She'd hidden it well, but he knew her well enough to be able to see it anyway. He dearly wanted to bring that up, but while they were in the middle of an undercover op wasn't exactly the best time for a personal chat.

"I'm not convinced that she's the one in charge," Lisbon went on. "But I think we've got a good chance of getting her to talk if we arrest her. And then this goddamned case can finally be over."

"And my job is to make that happen, right?"

"That's right. You know, as long as you don't mind double-crossing your new girlfriend," said Lisbon, smiling slightly. "Might put a bit of a damper on the romance."

Jane grinned. "Guess me and Annabelle just weren't meant to be. Consider it done."

He was back inside for less than two minutes before Annabelle accosted him.

"How did it go?"

"Terrible. She's still fuming. Guess I can kiss all my stuff goodbye, she'll probably have burned it all by the time I get back to the house."

"It's not _your _fault the woman's a lunatic," said Annabelle. "Come on, let's go back outside for a minute so you can get some fresh air."

She took him by the hand and led him out into the darkness, shutting the door behind them so the sounds of the party inside were muffled.

"I'm sorry about all this," said Jane. "I wish there was some way I could just make myself forget."

"I can help you with that," she said. "I know a way to make all your troubles disappear."

She pulled a sealed packet of white powder out of her pocket and put it in his hand.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asked her.

She smiled mischievously. "Let's just say, it's something that could get me into a lot of trouble."

"Oh Annabelle," said Jane, matching her smile as he took it from her. "You really have no idea how much trouble you're about to be in."

She looked perplexed. "What do you mean?"

He turned and called over his shoulder. "Lisbon!"

She stepped out of the shadows nearby, and Annabelle's confusion quickly turned to horror.

"What is she doing here? Will, what's going on?"

"Actually the name is Patrick. Patrick Jane. And this here is the lovely Agent Teresa Lisbon."

"Agent?" Annabelle repeated, the colour draining from her face.

"That's right," said Lisbon, pulling her badge out of her pocket and flashing it at Annabelle. "We're with the California Bureau of Investigation. And you're under arrest."

* * *

Lisbon watched with the greatest satisfaction as she saw the panic in the other woman's eyes. It felt so good to finally make an arrest.

"Hands behind your back," she instructed Annabelle, reaching for the cuffs she'd been carrying around on her belt all week, just in case.

"You two were playing me this whole time?" Annabelle said, looking from one to the other.

"Afraid so," said Lisbon. "Annabelle Beckett you're under arrest for possession of an illegal substance with an intent to distribute."

"You bastard," Annabelle snarled at Jane who stood off to the side, watching as Lisbon fastened the cuffs around Annabelle's wrists. "You tricked me."

"Don't feel too bad," said Lisbon, without empathy. "Jane here is the best in the business. Smarter people than you have fallen into his traps. Let's go."

She began to march Annabelle across the road to the car. With one hand, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and handed it to Jane.

"Call Nick," she told him. "Tell him we've made an arrest and then ask him to reach out to the local P.D and see if we can borrow an interview room. Let's close this case."

* * *

Two hours later, Lisbon, Nick Annabelle, and a lawyer in an expensive-looking suit were ensconced in an interview room at the L.A.P.D. Jane was observing from behind the glass.

"So Miss Beckett," began Nick. "You were caught with a substantial amount of cocaine, enough to warrant a supply charge. That's quite a serious charge on it's own. But we've been investigating a syndicate being operated right here in L.A, coincidentally smuggling the same drug. Would you know anything about that?"

"Don't answer that," Annabelle's lawyer advised her.

"The cocaine we recovered from you is being tested at the FBI crime lab right now," Nick continued. "If it came from the same batch as other samples we have, we can prove your connection to the syndicate, whether you admit to it or not."

Jane saw Annabelle go pale, and he knew that Lisbon had noticed it too, because she was the next to speak.

"You're a well-informed woman," she said. "I always got the impression that you know pretty much everything about everything that goes on in your area. So now maybe you can put that knowledge to good use."

"I'm listening."

"Give us names," said Lisbon. "Everyone you know of who's involved with the smuggling in any way. I want everyone from the kingpins at the top to the dealers on the street. If you can do that, we might be able to help you out of this mess you've created for yourself."

"What are you offering?" asked the lawyer.

"We knock the charge down to just possession. It's a first offence and if we inform the judge that Miss Beckett helped with our investigation, she could avoid jail time completely."

Annabelle glanced across at her lawyer, who nodded.

"OK, _Rachel_," she said the name with a certain acidity to her tone. "We have a deal. On one condition."

"And what's that?"

"I'd like to have a talk with Mr Jane."

"Done," said Lisbon, pushing a sheet of paper and a pen towards her. "Now, start writing."

The list included several familiar names. Sid Madress, Bruce Fredrickson, and Hugh Marshall. According to Annabelle, Hank Pritchard, the owner of Iridissia was one of the chief members of the syndicate, using his nightclub as a means to move his 'product' through the public.

* * *

Nick and Lisbon took the list and stepped out to call the FBI and CBI respectively, and find out their next move, while Jane took his place opposite Annabelle to hear what she had to say.

"So, you and Rachel or whatever her name is. Are you guys actually married?"

Jane chuckled. "No, we're not."

"Engaged?"

"Nope."

"Living together?"

"We've never so much as been on a date. We're colleagues. That's all."

And if Lisbon got her way, he thought sadly, that was all they would ever be.

"Wow. You two are good actors. You had me buying it. So you're single then?" asked Annabelle brightly.

"You're kidding me, right?" said Jane, only just now understanding what it was Annabelle was getting at. "I just got you arrested and you're hitting on me?"

"Well you might be a conniving, deceiving jerk, but you're still good-looking, and I'm between boyfriends at the moment."

"I thought you were seeing someone."

"Not for much longer. His name's on that list, he's the one who got me into this crap in the first place."

Jane shook his head. "Well I appreciate the offer, but no thanks. There's already someone in my life," he said, thinking of Lisbon.

"Shame," said Annabelle. "Well if you ever change your mind you know where I'll be."

"Don't count on it," he said. "She's the only woman for me."

* * *

Jane found Lisbon after he left the interview room, in the break room talking on her cell phone.

"Thank you sir," she was saying as he got nearer. "It all worked out very well….yes I'll tell him. See you soon."

"Minelli?" Jane asked, as she snapped her phone shut.

"Yes," she said. "Congratulating us on solving the case. He also said to tell you that he just received a complaint from Hugh Marshall's lawyer about stealing his cell phone, and in future if you want to know about people's calls, pull their phone records like everyone else."

Jane chuckled.

"So who were all those calls to, anyway?" asked Lisbon. "Annabelle?"

"Actually they were to his mother. They had nothing to do with the case."

"So why'd you take the phone then?"

"Well I had the plan, but I knew you wouldn't want to move on it without evidence, so I brought you some," he said, shrugging. "It just happened to be evidence of a guy with mother issues, rather than a crime. Plus I needed some reason to justify pissing him off that much."

She smacked his arm. "You're a jerk!"

"So people tell me," said Jane, rubbing his arm where' she'd hit it. "So what happens now?"

"Well I've given a copy of the list to the chief here and Nick's taken one back to the FBI. They'll move on it tomorrow, but our part is pretty much done."

"So the case is closed then?"

"As far as our involvement goes, yes."

He grinned at her. "I think this calls for a celebration!"

She shook her head. "Actually it calls for a long drive back to Sacramento. The team's hit a wall in the case they're investigating. Minelli wants us-specifically you-back to HQ as soon as possible to speed things along."

"But it's only been a week. Minelli said we were on leave for two."

"California criminals don't take vacation, so apparently neither do we."

* * *

They walked out of the precinct and back to where the SUV was parked. Jane saw Lisbon stifle a yawn as she fumbled with the keys.

"We can't go back tonight," he said. "You're exhausted, you'll fall asleep at the wheel."

"No I won't," Lisbon said firmly, but promptly yawned again.

"Oh yes you will. You'll drift into oncoming traffic and kill us both. Is that what you want?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Driver fatigue is not ridiculous, Lisbon. It's a serious issue, and as a road user, I have a right to be concerned about it."

She rolled her eyes.

"Look, the way I see it you have two options here," he said. "You either let me drive us back to Sacramento-"

Lisbon gripped the car keys harder. "No way," she said.

"-Or we can head back to the house, spend the night there, and drive back first thing in the morning. Your call."

There was silence for a minute as he watched her, waiting for an answer. Then, to his great astonishment, she held out the keys.

"Drive us back to the house," she said. "It's only twenty minutes away. Do you think you can keep to the speed limit?"

"I make no guarantees."

She made to snatch the keys back again, but Jane deftly moved his hand up high, out of her reach.

"That's not fair," she complained. "You can't use your height to your advantage."

"Sure I can," said Jane. "That's how you win arguments, you know. Play to your advantages."

He got gleefully into the driver's seat as Lisbon reluctantly hoisted herself up into the passenger side.

Jane put the key in the ignition and gunned the engine a little more than strictly necessary, just for fun.

"We are going to die," said Lisbon.

"Stop stressing woman. Just relax, close your eyes and we'll be back to the house before you know it."

Scowling, she obeyed. "I'm only doing this so I won't be scared when we end up wrapped around a telegraph pole. I won't see it coming."

He chuckled, and reversed the SUV out of the parking spot.

No more case.

One more night in L.A.

One more night alone with her before they had to go back to reality.

How much could happen in one night?

* * *

**I'm sorry if the case ended a little suddenly, but I have to admit, I'm glad it's over and done with. I really suck at the case part and don't enjoy writing it nearly as much as the Jisbon stuff.**

**We are not quite at the end yet, I still have a couple more chapters planned, and I hope you'll join me for those. Jisbon will be the main focus. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Another slow update again, bet you're all really sick of it now. But if it makes a difference, through a combination of writer's block and injury, I have been unable to give this story the attention it is due up til now. And for that I apologize profusely.**

**Rating: Very T for a mixture of fluff, a little smut (which you should feel free to skip if it's not your thing, but it's not that extreme anyway coz I suck at writing it) a spoonful of angst, and a bit of minor cussing here and there.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it.**

* * *

With her eyes shut tight so she couldn't see the speedometer needle, Lisbon tried to force herself to relax. The plan had gone off without anyone getting hurt, the case was closed and tomorrow they would be going home. It was almost over. The end of this crazy adventure in L.A was in sight. She couldn't wait to get back to her office, her team, and her own bed.

She yawned again. She had to admit, Jane had been right to insist that they postpone their departure until the morning. Physically, this case had been an easy one; (well, with the exception of those godawful stiletto heels she'd been forced to hobble around in at all those parties) she hadn't had to chase down or tackle anybody, nor had it been necessary to stay awake to all hours looking for a breakthrough as she often did back home. But the mental strain of having to maintain the character of 'Rachel' all this time had taken its toll on her. Now she understood why the Undercover unit at the CBI had such a high turnover rate of agents; pretending to be someone else was _hard_.

She was glad that she could now go back to being Teresa Lisbon again; it was the only character she felt comfortable playing.

Emotionally, she was just as spent. She'd been put through the wringer this week, experiencing several year's worth of repressed feelings over the course of seven short days, ranging from a burning lust to heartbreak, from betrayal to a white-hot jealousy, all of which were caused by the man beside her, who was humming along with the radio now, as the car flew down the road at a speed she was sure couldn't possibly be legal.

There'd been high points and low points, moments where she couldn't even stand to be in the same room with him, and moments where she'd wanted him so much she'd been able to think of nothing else. It had been a rollercoaster ride and she for one, was ready to get off. She was tired of the battle between what she knew to be right in her head, and what she desired in her heart, and every minute she spent with him made it worse.

She felt the car slowing down, and warily opened her eyes to see Jane guiding the car into a parking space.

"This isn't the house," she said, as she looked out the window.

"Not just a pretty face, are you Lisbon? Can't get one past you," said Jane dryly.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, suspiciously.

He registered the tone of voice, and smirked.

"I have to pick up a few things," he said. "You don't even have to get out of the car if you don't want to."

"As if. I know the dangers of letting you wander around on your own." She reached over to undo her seat belt buckle, but he caught her hand before she could touch it.

"I'm just going to the store," he said, amused by her actions. "Can't you trust me just this once?"

She supposed she might be overreacting just a little bit. Her exhaustion and hunger had combined together, leaving her in a slightly irrational kind of mood.

"Fine," she said. "But if you're not back here in ten minutes, I'm driving back to the house without you."

"Even if I take the keys with me?" he asked, pulling them from the ignition and stowing them in his pocket.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Do you want to find out?"

He looked surprised for a second and then a wide grin spread across his face. "Why Teresa Lisbon," he said. "Are you telling me that you know how to hotwire a car?"

"Take longer than ten minutes and you'll know," was all she said.

"Well I better get going then," he said. "I'd hate to find out what other not-so-legal hidden talents you might possess. Though the grand-theft auto thing is actually kind of hot."

Lisbon could hear him chuckling to himself as he walked away. She wondered if he thought she was kidding. She wasn't. Bringing up three car-mad teenage boys had been an educational experience on many levels.

However, any grand-theft auto was rendered unnecessary when Jane returned seven minutes later (she'd been keeping track.)

"Case-closed pizza," he said, passing her the box to hold while he drove.

"But-" she started to protest.

"We have to," he said. "It's tradition."

"And what's all the rest of this stuff?" she asked, looking at the plastic bag in his other hand.

"You'll see," he said, putting it on the floor by her feet.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, back at the house, they sat together at the dining table, each with a slice of pizza and a glass of wine.

He raised his glass. "To us. The best crime-solving duo in California."

"You are so arrogant," she said, smiling a little.

"Fine. The best crime-solving duo in this room, then," he amended.

She clinked her glass with his, but as she did so, she began to feel uncomfortable. This was all starting to feel very familiar, take-away food, red wine and toasts. She tried not to think about how things had ended last time. She really shouldn't lose control of herself again, not now, with home and reality only hours away.

"But in that case,' piped up the little voice in her head. 'Isn't that all the more reason to do it now, while you still can?'

The idea was tempting, Very tempting. After watching someone else paw at him all evening, she'd been having an increasingly strong desire to take back what was hers. A small irrational part of her deep down, thought that being his 'wife' meant that those eyes, that smile, those golden curls, were all her property until they got back to Sacramento.

She glanced out the window to see the lights on in Annabelle's house.

"No way," she said, irritably.

"What?" asked Jane.

"How did she make bail already?" said Lisbon incredulously, standing up for a better look. "I was hoping they'd hold her overnight at least!"

The angry hissing sound that had escaped her as she said this seemed to have clued Jane in on who she was talking about, as she could see him attempting to conceal his smile.

"Guess she has friends in high places," he said.

"It's ridiculous," sad Lisbon. "We arrest her with enough cocaine on her to convict her for trafficking, and she faces no consequences for it. It's like we're telling these people that if you've got enough money to your name and don't mind ratting people out, you can get away with anything."

Jane listened to her little rant with an air of mild surprise and amusement.

"She really pushed your buttons, didn't she?" he said. "You never get this agitated."

Lisbon took a large gulp of wine to avoid answering.

"We did what we had to do to bring down that drug ring," said Jane, soothingly. "Sure, Annabelle got a get-out-of-jail-free card, but she was pretty small-time in the whole scheme of things. And without her statement, we'd never have got all the others. We did our job."

He was right. She knew he was. Hell, she'd told him the same kind of thing more times than she could count over the years. Sometimes you just had to look at the bigger picture, and make decisions you weren't always happy with, in order to get the job done.

But she really would have liked to convict Annabelle for something, just to upset her perfect little world. Just to prove to the woman that people couldn't always get what they wanted.

She herself knew that all too well. The thing she wanted most in the world right now was sitting opposite her pouring himself another glass of wine. He seemed to sense her gaze, looked up, and grinned at her as he topped off her glass too. Her heart felt like it had flipped over in her chest; she didn't think she'd ever get used to that smile, even if she saw it every day for the rest of her life.

A thought came to her. He was here, they were alone, the chances of anybody finding out were minimal.

Maybe she should tap into her inner Annabelle. Forget about the consequences and whether it was right or wrong, and go after what she wanted. Shut out Red John, the CBI, the world, and allow herself to be with the man she loved just this one last time.

She might never get this chance again.

* * *

She was thinking about something. He could practically see her ticking things over in her mind. Probably plotting some way to arrest Annabelle again, if the last few minutes had been any indication.

This Annabelle thing had really done a number on her, he realised. He'd never seen her act this way before. He'd have liked to attribute it to jealousy on her part, but being Lisbon, it could just as easily be because she felt she'd left the job half-done, and he knew she hated that.

But whatever it was, it was clear that it was causing her distress, and he didn't want to spend their last night in L.A with her worrying about work the whole time. He had other, more pleasant ideas.

She didn't even notice when he picked up her plate and cleared it away, apparently too intent on her thoughts, and it was only when he replaced it with another plate a minute later that she seemed to shake herself out of it.

"Cheesecake?" she said, questioningly, but he saw the way her eyes had lit up at the sight of it. She might think she was unaffected by the gesture but she wasn't fooling him.

"Figured I owed you," he said. "Since it was my fault you didn't get to have it the other day."

"I really shouldn't," she said. "We've been living on canapés and take-out practically all week, I'm already going to have to put in at least three extra hours at the gym next week to work it all off."

"Never mind that," he said, picking up the plate and waving it in front of her nose. "Treat yourself. You know you want to."

She took the plate from him, but didn't begin eating.

"It's not as simple as just wanting it Jane," she said. "Human beings aren't just a mass of impulses and desires you know."

"Well maybe they could be," he said. "Just from time to time, they should just seize the moment, because it feels right."

"The moment would have to be pretty special then," she said, smiling coyly.

Somehow, he got the feeling that they weren't just talking about cheesecake anymore, and the gleam in her eyes did nothing to dissuade him from that theory.

"Something on your mind that you'd like to share, Agent Lisbon?" he asked.

"No." And she picked up the fork.

He couldn't help but smile at the undisguised lust in her eyes as she surveyed the dessert. All he needed now was to find out how to make her look at him that way.

She kept her eyes on her plate for the most part, but she could practically feel Jane's eyes following her every movement. Every so often she glanced up and saw him turn his head away just in time, until one time, she caught him looking. She knew she should avert her eyes, but the newfound rebellious part of her told her to let it play itself out a little, just to see what happened. So she held his gaze as she sucked a little stray cream cheese off her finger. She saw his eyes widen just a fraction and his attention remained focused on her lips, until she snapped him out of it by deliberately dropping her fork onto her plate with a clatter.

OK, so now she_ knew_ she was playing with fire. She should really stop this right now, before it got any sillier.

But she liked having his full attention. She liked the fact that she was driving him crazy without really trying. She really wanted to seize this chance, this final opportunity to have him all to herself. This was one of the rare times in her life when she thought it might be OK to be a little selfish. She was going to do the right thing eventually, she reasoned. She was just putting it off a little longer.

Was that so wrong?

* * *

Jane made a mental note to provide Lisbon with cheesecake at least once a week from here on out. The little moan she'd let out at the first bite had sent a shiver down his spine, and then there'd been the little performance with the cream cheese. He wasn't sure if she'd done it on purpose or not; it was hard to tell with Lisbon, but either way, it had gotten his attention.

She seemed to have noticed this as she smiled at him, but whether she'd been seeking such a reaction from him remained unclear. He knew very well that she could be quite the little seductress when she wanted to, but after her constant rebuffs of him over the last few days, it was unlikely that this was such an occasion.

Her cell phone rang.

"Lisbon," she answered. A brief pause. "Oh, hi Nick!"

Jane rolled his eyes. He'd been hoping they'd heard the last of the pesky FBI agent at the police station. Apparently not. Not in the mood to listen to her flirt with Sheens over the phone, he instead proceeded into the kitchen to start clearing up.

Even as he ran hot water in the sink to soak the plates before they went into the dishwasher, he could still hear her voice from the next room. Every so often she'd let out a little laugh, and he'd scowl to himself. Who knew an FBI agent could be such a comedian?

He wondered what they were talking about. Reminiscing about old times perhaps, or comparing notes on the case or maybe even fixing a time to 'catch up' now they'd found each other again. Perhaps it might turn into a star-crossed lovers scenario and they'd take this as a chance to make up for the missed opportunity at the police academy and he'd be forced to accept that he'd had her, and then lost her in the space of a week.

He considered the possibility of Lisbon and Nick in a relationship. They'd be on the phone to each other all the time and she might God forbid, take a break from work every so often to come to L.A to see him. She might even choose to move permanently. And what if they ended up married? Her name would be Teresa Sheens. It sounded like a cleaning product.

He knew he was getting ahead of himself, and being irrational, but he dreaded the idea of being pushed out of her life to make room for Nick. She was so important to him, and regardless if things worked out between them or not, she was likely to remain so. He had built so much of his current life around her, she was the centre of his world, and if he were to lose her now, it wouldn't surprise him if it were to unhinge him completely. He'd already lost so much to Red John, but somehow managed to recover enough to have something resembling a life again. But the loss of Lisbon, however it came about, would be the final straw.

There was only so much that could be taken from a man before he gave up completely.

Nick talked Lisbon through the plans for the next day's bust on the names that had been provided by Annabelle. Lisbon felt a slight pang, disappointed to be missing out on the culmination of all the work of this past week. Even though her job had purely been for intelligence purposes, she still would've liked to go and enjoy the cathartic release of kicking a little drug-dealer ass.

On the bright side, at least she'd been able to slap some handcuffs on Annabelle (something she'd been wanting to do practically since they'd met,) she'd reconnected with an old friend, and made a new one. So it hadn't been all bad.

"I would've thought you guys would have been on the road by now," said Nick. "I thought you said your boss wants you back ASAP."

"We decided to drive back in the morning."

Nick snorted. "Bet that was Jane's idea."

"So what if it was?"

He sighed. "Oh Tess. Are you really so blind? You can't possibly expect me to believe you don't know he has the hots for you."

Memories of the other night's lovemaking flashed through her mind.

"I have an inkling," she said.

"Look, it's none of my business," he said. "But just be careful Tessie, okay? I don't have to know him as well as you do to be able to tell that the guy's trouble."

"You have no idea," said Lisbon, fervently. "But don't worry about me Nick, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

'I know," he said. "But you're one of my best, oldest friends. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Well, it was a bit late for that, thought Lisbon to herself as she hung up the phone. The moment she'd let Patrick Jane into her heart, she'd let herself in for a world of pain. Unfortunately, that particular fact was just too easy to put out of her mind when he smiled at her, or kissed her, or one of the other numerous things he did that made the retribution of the CBI seem worth it for a moment or two.

Being in love with her consultant was just so inconvenient.

She heard the clinking sound of dishes and wandered into the kitchen to see Jane loading the dishwasher.

"How come you're never this helpful with things at work?" she asked, leaning against the counter.

"I thought the CBI paid me for my insight on cases and not my cleaning expertise," he said, but keeping his back to her. "What'd Sheens want?"

"He was just telling me that all the warrants are going to be served tomorrow. You know, keeping me in the loop."

"Well wasn't that nice of him?" said Jane, and she could hear the sarcasm in his voice. "To go to the trouble of calling you up to tell you something you already know."

"It's called being considerate, Jane," she said testily. "A personality trait you're obviously unfamiliar with."

"Obviously," he batted back, flatly turning around to face her. "But I _am_ familiar with subterfuge. Did it occur to you that this so-called 'consideration'" – he punctuated the word with air quotes-"might just be a smokescreen for some sort of ulterior motive?"

"No it hasn't," she snapped. "Because there_ is_ no ulterior motive. Nick is a good guy, Jane, and a good friend, you're being overly suspicious and completely unreasonable-"

"So it's OK for you to be jealous of Annabelle, but it's 'unreasonable' for me to question the apparently infallible Agent Sheens?'

There was a brief pause, as she digested these words.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, keeping her voice steady but panicking on the inside. So she was right, he had picked up on her discomfort this evening. She should have done a better job of hiding it.

Oh, who was she kidding? When had she ever been able to hide anything from Jane?

She could see a grin slowly starting to make its way across his face. He had her on the back foot now, and he knew it too, the bastard.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

The key to getting out of this very dangerous situation with her dignity intact was to keep her cool, and not to let him disarm or sidetrack her. The moment she let her guard down, she was sunk.

"You know that was all part of the plan. I acted like I would if I ever really caught you cheating on me," she said, and at his small chuckle and raised eyebrow, hastily added: "You know, if we were a real couple."

"Of course," he said, but then the smile faded. "But if we were a real couple, you know I'd never do that to you, right? Not with Annabelle or with anyone else."

His gaze zeroed in on hers, and there was such an intensity there, that she had to look away.

"It doesn't matter anyway," she said, with a very fake airiness. "Job's done now, right?" This was all her fault. Her punishment for teasing him with the cream cheese earlier; now she'd opened up this can of worms again with all the meaningful looks and awkward questions.

Everything was always just so complicated between them. And with them due to head home in the morning, she didn't need any more complications right now. She should really just put aside this nonsense for the night and this time tomorrow, they'd be back to the daily grind of cases, trials, complaints and paperwork.

But as she looked into his eyes she realized that it wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want to go back to Sacramento wondering what they could have had if she'd just been brave enough to give it a try. She wanted to _know_. But first, she had to know exactly where she stood.

"You know, you and Annabelle seemed to be hitting it off really well tonight," she said, in what she hoped passed for polite disinterest. "And now our 'marriage' has hit the skids, you could give her a call, ask her if she wants to go out tonight."

Jane looked at her as if she were crazy. "Why the hell would I want to do that? You know how I feel about her. And more importantly, you know how I feel about _you_."

There was a sarcastic little smile on his face as he shook his head in disbelief.

"You could throw any woman in the world at me, and it wouldn't change that."

A brief silence followed these words. Lisbon looked like she'd come to a decision about something as she met his eyes again. Rather then the irritation or scepticism he'd expected to find in them, he saw tenderness instead, it was like he'd passed some kind of test, as she tentatively moved towards him.

As soon as she was close enough, he took her by the waist, and finally, after days of waiting, kissed her again. God, how had he gone so long without this? It had only been three days, but it felt like three years.

He felt her pull away from him.

"Did you mean that?" he heard her whisper.

He chuckled just a little. Was she really asking him that question? Hadn't he made his intentions clear enough?

"You tell me," he said, pulling her in for another one, but she stopped him, needing to make something clear.

"Just so you know, my feelings for you were never the point of contention. That ship sailed a long time ago."

"Good to know," said Jane, and he kissed her again.

* * *

Neither of them would ever really know how they ended up getting from the kitchen to lying on the floor in the living room, though Jane vaguely remembered later that they seemed to be heading towards the couch, and simply never made it. Of course, he couldn't be 100% sure of this, as they never stopped kissing for the entire transition from room to room, but when he thought back on it, he did recall the moment when walking seemed like such an unnecessary effort and he'd fallen down onto the rug, taking her with him.

She giggled as she landed on top of him and something about the sound made him hotter for her than ever. Suddenly the kisses which had been soft and tender became harder and more passionate. The fingers he'd been running through her hair began to clutch at her clothes as though they had a life of their own.

"We have- to stop-doing this," she said, her words punctuated by increasingly loud moans of pleasure as he nibbled at her earlobe, nuzzled her neck, kissed her all over. "If anyone…mmm…ever finds out, we can…Oh God, yes…kiss our jobs goodbye."

"Well," Jane panted, as he started tugging her shirt over her head. "They're going to get"-he paused as she nipped at his bottom lip-"one hell of a send-off."

The quiet of the street had already been disturbed by the residents of Number 17 that evening. But this time it was screams of a different kind that broke the peaceful night air.

Afterwards, they lay entwined on the shag pile rug, clothes scattered everywhere.

"Think you burned off that cheesecake yet?" Jane asked, as his fingers ran lazily up and down her arm.

"I don't know," she said. "But I have to say, that was way more enjoyable cardio then running on a treadmill."

He smirked. "Who said exercise can't be fun?"

They lay there in silence for a little while, listening to the wind howling past the window.

"Jane, do you ever wonder what it would be like?"

"What?"

"You know," she said. "Us."

She didn't have to explain any further, the answer came to him right away.

"All the time. How about you?"

She was silent for so long, he thought she wasn't going to answer.

"Me too."

To his bemusement, she shrugged off his arm and sat up. "It's late," she said. "We've got a long drive in the morning. I should go to bed." She began to pull her clothes back on for the walk upstairs.

"Oh come on," said Jane, giving her the pleading eyes he knew she couldn't resist. "You're not going to leave me down here all by myself are you?"

She sighed. " Fine. You can come up too, but just so we're clear, all we're going to do is _sleep_. Got it?"

He winked at her. "Don't worry about that," he said. "You already wore me out."

Curiously, it seemed their little 'workout' had taken its toll on her too. Only a few minutes after she'd changed into pyjamas and gotten into the bed, she fell asleep in his arms, and he stroked her hair over and over again until he did too.

* * *

The sun shining on Lisbon's face caused her to wake quite early the next morning. But today she didn't bother extricating herself from Jane's embrace. She didn't feel like popping her blissful little bubble this morning; it would happen soon enough anyway.

Instead she just lay there and allowed herself to enjoy these last hours with the man she loved before shoving down all those feelings again and going back to being simply his boss. She didn't want to, and she didn't like it, but it was the way things had to be. But they'd always have this week in L.A, nobody could take that from them, now or ever.

She felt him stir behind her.

"Well, this is definitely an improvement on the other day," he said, voice husky and deeper than usual from sleep. "Now this is a wonderful way to wake up."

Reluctantly, she peeled his arms from her torso and wriggled out of his embrace.

"Come on," she said. "We need to pack up our stuff and get going. It's a long way back to Sacramento."

"Then why not break up the journey?" said Jane. "We'll drive a few miles and then call the CBI and say the car broke down." He moved over to where she was perched on the edge of the bed. "Find ourselves a little hotel," he went on, brushing her hair aside. "Get a room, just you and me," he began peppering kisses up and down and her neck. She wished he wouldn't, he made it very hard for her to be able to think straight, let alone come up with scathing comebacks to his ridiculous plan.

"And I suppose we'll pay in cash, give fake names, and enter separately from the front and back," she said, jerking away from him irritably.

He grinned at her. "Oh Lisbon, you make it sound so sordid."

"Because it is!" she snapped, now getting off the bed altogether. "That is not going to happen Jane!"

The smile faded. "So this is your way of telling me that last night meant nothing to you, is it? What about the night before, and the night before that?"

She scowled at him. "Do you really think I do this kind of stuff so often it's not important to me? Of course last night meant something, it _all_ meant something." She sighed. "But it's something that you and I just aren't allowed to have."

He looked so forlorn, that she just couldn't help leaning down and giving him a quick peck on his cheek.

"Last night was like something out of a fairytale," she said. "But it's time for us to get back to reality."

Before he could say anything else, she swept out of the room headed for the shower. All she wanted now was to get home.

* * *

Jane's cheek tingled where she'd kissed it. Did the woman have any idea how much she was tearing him up right now? If their perfect night together hadn't been enough to convince her that the two of them were worth a shot then what was?

Deep down, he knew the answer. Mind-blowing sex, while not to be discounted completely, could only get him so far. He'd known all along that he wouldn't be able to seduce her into a relationship; he needed to do something more. Something big. Something to prove to her that whatever happened, she could trust and depend on him. And deep down, he knew the only way he could do that was in Sacramento, so he could show her once and for all that he took her seriously, along with everything she stood for.

He flung the covers back and got out of the bed. It was time to go home.

* * *

Two hours later, their suitcases were in the car and they were ready to leave. Lisbon was just locking the front door when she heard a soft voice calling out.

"Rachel! Hey! Rach!"

Automatically, she turned towards it, still programmed to respond to her fake name. Meg was standing just beyond the driveway. With a rush of guilt Lisbon, waved an acknowledgement; she'd forgotten about this part.

Jane appeared by her side and took the key from her. "Go," he said, quietly. "I'll lock up."

With a smile of thanks to her partner Lisbon walked across the lawn to where Meg was standing.

"So I hear that 'Rachel' isn't actually your name," said Meg.

"You hear right."

"Apparently you guys are cops from Sacramento."

"Well, he's just a consultant," corrected Lisbon. "And I'm a state agent."

"I see. What's your real name?" Meg's face was impassive.

"Teresa. Teresa Lisbon. And I apologise for deceiving you."

Meg shrugged. "S'OK, it was your job. I understand."

There was an awkward silence for a minute, before Meg spoke again.

"The word is that you arrested Annabelle Beckett for drug possession. Is that right?"

"Yes."

Meg's face broke into a grin. "I would've paid big money to see that woman in an orange jumpsuit."

Relief washed through Lisbon as she realized Meg wasn't mad after all.

"Unfortunately it never got that far."

"Well I'm sure you did your best. And hey, if you're ever back in L.A…"

"Same goes for you if you ever come to Sacramento."

The two women hugged, Meg waved goodbye to Jane (Will) and left.

Lisbon turned to Jane.

"Ready?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Let's go home," she said, walking towards the SUV. "Oh, and Jane?"

"Yes?"

"I'm driving."

* * *

**So the case is now well and truly over and our heroes are on their way home. But our story continues. Will Jane be able to finally win over the woman he loves? **

**I hope you come back next chapter to find out. **


	16. Chapter 16

**For the umpteenth time, I find myself thanking everybody who reviews, favourites, alerts or just reads this story. If it weren't for you guys, I might have packed this in ages ago. :)**

**Rating: T as normal.**

**Disclaimer: I think we've established that it's not mine by now, but you know, just in case, I'll say it again. I don't own it.**

**As always, please enjoy!**

* * *

They were well out of L.A before it really started to sink in to Jane that they really wouldn't be going back. That they'd probably never see the house that they had called home all of this past week again.

A part of him was sad to be leaving it. A lot of memories had been made in that house. He remembered carrying Lisbon over the threshold on the first day with her fighting him every step of the way, the bathroom incident, the pair of them breaking dishes for their fake fight, bickering over him 'borrowing' the car that one night, carrying her once again to the bedroom and making love to her there, and then again just last night on the rug.

This week had given him a sharp reminder of what a normal life was like. He'd had no idea just how much he was missing it; nor had he been fully aware of just how lonely he had been all these years. He'd always thought he'd had plenty of companionship through his coworkers, but it had taken this experience of 'marriage' to make him realise how much one's desire to be at home increased when there was someone to come home to.

She'd rolled down the window a little way and the wind whipped through her hair as she drove. It felt like this trip was taking less time than the last time, almost as if she were driving faster, or perhaps he was just dreading the moment when they arrived back at the CBI and this would all really be over.

It hit him as she brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, and her ring flashed in the light. He was about to lose another wife. The circumstances were miles apart, but already he could feel the building sense of loss. Soon, he would have nothing left but the memories of their week undercover. Knowing her, she would pretend the whole thing had never happened, and everything would go back to the way it was before, solving crime all day, and loneliness all night.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been as happy as he'd been this week. And now he was supposed to give it up again and go back to the misery. It wasn't fair.

* * *

Lisbon concentrated hard on the road ahead of her. As long as she could avoid looking at Jane for the rest of the ride back to Sacramento, things would be OK. She could feel him watching her from the passenger seat; his eyes were practically burning into the side of her head, but she refused to give in to temptation.

He wasn't _allowed_ to look at her that way anymore. Just as she was no longer permitted to kiss him on the cheek if she felt like it, as she'd done this morning. Allowing those things to happen would give the illusion that there was any hope for them together. It hurt, but that brief chapter of their lives was now over, and for their own sakes, both of them had to move on.

She kept telling herself that, over and over, as she drove. But for some reason, it just wasn't sinking in.

* * *

It was a long drive from L.A back to Sacramento, but they still managed it in far less time than Jane would have liked. Before he knew it, she was pulling the Suburban into an empty space in the CBI parking lot.

"And we're back," he said, with little enthusiasm. "Guess this means we're divorced now."

She smiled. "It's just so hard to make a marriage work these days."

"So are we going to divide up our assets?" he asked.

"Sure. And while I'm at it, I'll sue your ass for alimony too."

"I knew I should have gotten that pre-nup."

He chuckled at his own wit, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Seriously though," Jane said after a while. "There's something I need to give back to you."

Carefully, he unclasped the chain from around his neck, removed his wedding ring, and to her surprise, produced her cross pendant from his pocket. She'd had no idea he even had it, she hadn't even looked at it since she'd taken it off at the start of the week.

"When did you take that?" she asked.

"The day after you gave me the chain," he said. "Just in case."

"In case of what?" she asked, indignantly.

"I know it's important to you," he said simply. "I wanted to keep it safe."

He slipped the crucifix back onto its chain and held the now-complete necklace out to her.

"Thanks for the loan," he said.

"You're welcome." She took it from him, and looped it back around her neck. He watched for a few moments as she struggled with the clasp.

"Damn it," she cursed under her breath.

He smiled. "Patience really isn't your strong suit, is it?"

"It's not my fault!" she snapped. "Why do they have to make the stupid things so small?"

She let out a small noise of frustration as it slipped from her fingers yet again.

"What are you going to do next, shoot it?" he asked, affectionately. "Let me." He tried to take it back from her but she waved him away.

"I can do it."

He rolled his eyes at her stubbornness.

"You're going to be battling with that thing all day," he said. "And it doesn't make you any weaker a person if you let me help you."

"What are you talking about?" she said.

"I know how your mind works. And I also know that you have a pathological need to do everything yourself. But really, this isn't a big deal, it's just a necklace."

He could see that she was pretending not to hear, and stifled a laugh as she once again failed to fasten the necklace. He held out his hand, and waited. After another minute she handed it to him, scowling.

"Turn around," he said, and she obeyed.

Gently, he pushed her hair over her left shoulder, out of the way. As he did so, his fingertips grazed her skin, and he felt her whole body tense up at his touch. He knew from experience that her neck was a particularly sensitive area for her, she'd never been able to resist it when he kissed her there. He knew that if he wanted to, he could have her entirely within his power in a matter of moments.

But he also knew that it would do nothing to assist him in his eventual goal. Seducing her in the front seat of the SUV outside the CBI was not the answer.

But he still let his fingers keep brushing against her skin as he put the necklace on and did up the clasp.

He'd never been good at resisting temptation.

* * *

This was the exact reason she'd wanted to put the stupid necklace on herself, Lisbon thought. She'd been trying to avoid a situation like this. This was what happened when work colleagues slept together; even the most basic of tasks became sexually charged 'moments' fraught with meaning, emotion and frustration.

She still hadn't seemed to have developed any kind of control over herself at his touch; it still made her pulse quicken and her skin tingle.

It felt like an age before he drew away from her, and she congratulated herself for keeping her head.

When she finally met his gaze again, he was smiling that smile at her, the one that made women go weak at the knees.

"That's better," he said. "You look like you again."

Another tense moment, the air buzzing with hidden meaning. It was all getting to be too much; she had to get away from him before she did something stupid.

"Come on," she said briskly, unclipping her seatbelt and opening the door. "The others are expecting us."

She felt her spirits lift as she walked into the foyer. Finally, things were going back to normal. Back at the CBI. Her job was here, her friends were here, her _life_ was here. She never thought she would ever have such an attachment to a government building.

It was a bit of a sad comment on her social life, really.

"Agent Lisbon, you're back!"

Katie from Payroll had just emerged from one of the lifts, clutching a handful of papers. Lisbon noted that Katie looked perfectly at ease in her high heels; the week's events had given her a new appreciation for the skill involved in wearing them.

"I didn't think you two were coming back until next week," she said, beaming at them both. "We all thought you were off on a desert island somewhere, having a nice romantic getaway."

"No,' said Lisbon, even though that wasn't strictly true. Parts of their trip had certainly been romantic. But she was glad that she could at last set the record straight about herself and Jane and their so-called 'engagement.'

"Actually," she began. "We were-"

But suddenly Katie was no longer listening, as her attention was fully focused on Lisbon's left hand. With a sinking heart, Lisbon realized that with her preoccupation about getting away from Jane, she'd forgotten to remove her ring. She'd got so used to wearing it over the past week, it had completely slipped her mind.

Katie's jaw dropped. She seized Lisbon's hand in both of her own and her eyes travelled from the ring to Lisbon's face, and back again.

"No!" she gasped. "You didn't?"

"Katie," Lisbon said hastily. "It's not what you think…"

"God, you're a dark horse, aren't you? I thought you'd be the last person to _ever_ run away and get married without telling anyone," gushed Katie excitedly. "But I guess if I were engaged to the most gorgeous guy in California, I wouldn't want to wait either. Oh you guys, I'm so happy for you!" She flung her arms first around a startled Lisbon, and then Jane who was trying desperately not to laugh. "And don't worry about everyone finding out," Katie said, suddenly serious. "Minelli's already suspended you, if he hears about this, you'll both be fired! I'll keep it completely on the down-low."

"Katie!" said Lisbon, a little more forcefully now. "You've really got it wrong." She looked to Jane for help; some of his talent for spinning crap would be useful right about now. But he just grinned at her, and she knew that he was enjoying watching her struggle far too much. He'd be no help at all. Bastard.

Suddenly, Katie's cell phone chirped, announcing the arrival of a new text message.

"I have to go," she said after she'd read it. "They need me upstairs." She dumped her papers onto the reception desk and then pressed the button for the elevator again.

"Let me explain," Lisbon tried again, as the doors slid open. "Jane and I aren't married. We're not even dating. We've been doing undercover work this week, that's why we've been away."

There. A perfectly logical, reasonable explanation. Nobody could argue with that right?

Katie raised a sceptical eyebrow. "With all due respect, Lisbon, I think you should let Jane come up with the cover story. He's better at lying then you are."

Lisbon felt her jaw drop in surprise. Beside her, she could hear Jane clap a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"Don't feel bad, Lisbon," Katie amended, as the doors closed. "You're just an honest person. Take it as a compliment."

* * *

The moment Katie disappeared from view, Lisbon turned to Jane and smacked him hard in the arm.

"Could you have been any less helpful?" she said angrily.

"I'm sorry," he said, as he tried to get a hold of himself. "The look on your face when you realized you were still wearing that ring…"

He decided not to mention how adorable he thought it was when she was blindsided like that; like a deer in headlights. It didn't happen very often, she was pretty sharp, but he had to admit, he loved it when it did.

She strode over to the elevator and started pummelling the 'up' button.

"We have to get up there," she said.

"There's no need to rush," he said. "The damage has already been done. You know this place gossips like a high school. All she has to do is tell one person and the whole office'll know in five minutes."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Will you relax?" he said, as he walked up to where she was standing, still furiously jabbing at the button. "Minelli'll back us up. And Cho too. And if you push that button any more you're going to send it into meltdown," he said. "Come here." He put his arm around her shoulders.

He knew he was taking a risk by touching her in the CBI like this, but she just looked so worried and upset, he couldn't help himself. And anyway the foyer was deserted.

Without meaning to, Lisbon found herself being pulled towards him, until her head fell onto his shoulder. He held her tight, and slowly some of her anxiety started to subside.

"Everything's going to be fine," she heard him say, soothingly. His breath tickled her ear, and it made her smile. Then, he leaned across and gently kissed her temple.

And all of a sudden, realization slammed into her. Not only had she allowed herself to get into an intimate situation with her consultant once again, she had let it happen here at work, where _anybody_ could see them. She pulled herself away from him, as though she'd just been scalded.

What in the name of all that was holy was wrong with her?

He wasn't supposed to reach out to comfort her like that, and she was not supposed to let him. And it was _most definitely_ not supposed to feel so natural, and soothing, and right.

They were done with this now. It was time to stop being 'husband' and 'wife' and get back to being 'partners.'

The lift pinged, and she hurried into it, without a backward glance.

* * *

"Can I make a suggestion?" Jane said, tapping at his cell phone as they ascended up to the Serious Crimes floor.

"If I say no, will you listen?"

"No."

She sighed. "Then go ahead, by all means."

"If I were you, I'd lose that ring," he said. "Unless you want to add fuel to the fire."

Hastily, she tugged it from her finger and put it in her pocket, as the doors opened.

The word had spread fast. Everywhere Jane looked, people were whispering together, trying to get a better look at them. One would think that out of a whole floorful of state agents, at least one of them would have something more constructive to be doing.

"Try not to look so guilty," he advised Lisbon in a low voice as they got out of the elevator, for she was glancing furtively around with the air of somebody with something to hide. He could sense forty pairs of eyes following their progress across the bullpen, and if he listened hard, he could make out a few short snatches of conversation as they passed.

"-heard they ran off to Canada for the wedding-"

"-think she might be pregnant, that's why they got married so fast-"

-she's not wearing her ring, d'you think something's gone wrong already?"

"This is so humiliating," Lisbon hissed to Jane. The sanctuary of her office felt like it was getting further away instead of closer, as she endured the gauntlet of judging eyes from her co-workers.

"Just ignore them," Jane said.

They finally reached the Serious Crimes area, and there were Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt, tapping away at their computers, Rigsby pausing every few key strikes or so to take a bite of a sandwich. She was very glad to see them.

"Hey guys," Jane greeted them, and all three agents looked up.

"Ah," said Cho. "The newlyweds. Guess it's time to break out the champagne."

"What?"

If it were any other person, Lisbon would have thought that were kidding. But this was Cho, and Kimball Cho did _no_t kid.

Surely, he couldn't possibly think…

"I've been wondering boss," Rigsby put in. "Do we have to call you 'Jane' now too? Because that could get a little confusing."

"You didn't even give us any time to get you a wedding present," said Van Pelt, sadly.

Lisbon was horror-struck. Surely her team hadn't actually believed this ridiculous rumour. She'd been prepared to cop a lot of teasing from every other agent in the building, but not these three. She'd been so sure they would believe her. They had to believe her. If she couldn't convince her team, her friends, how on Earth was she supposed to convince everyone else?

She shot a panicked glance at Jane, who just grinned at her in his infuriating way. Did he not understand the seriousness of what was going on? Rigsby, Van Pelt, Cho, they all thought that they had…that they were…

And then something clicked.

Cho. They'd told him about the mission from the start. He knew about all of it. Jane had even mentioned speaking with him while they'd been away. In confusion, she looked at her second-in-command and noticed that while his expression was as stoic as ever, his right eyebrow was crooked upwards very slightly. And a quick glance at the other two showed her they were both determinedly avoiding each other's gaze, and biting their lip in an effort to suppress their laughter.

She narrowed her eyes at her agents. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded. She let her glare rest on Rigsby, who she knew could be counted on to talk if she put enough pressure on him.

Sure enough, after only a few seconds, he was unable to contain himself any longer. "Sorry boss," he blurted out. " We know you guys didn't really get married, we were only messing with you. It was his idea!" he added, pointing over her shoulder towards Jane.

Honestly, three intelligent people couldn't come up with a better excuse then 'the other guy did it?'

"Don't try to blame this on him," she said. "He's been with me all morning, how could he have…?"

She trailed off midsentence as she recalled only moments ago in the elevator, herself wrenching the ring from her finger, Jane with his cell phone in his hand…

"You son of a bitch," she snarled, turning around to face him, her eyes blazing with fury.

It only incensed her further as he burst out laughing.

"I couldn't resist," he said. "After I saw how upset you got over the thing with Katie, I just had to see what would happen if you thought they'd believed it too."

"I'll kill you," she said advancing on him menacingly. "I swear to you Jane, I will take my gun and beat you to death with it."

"Wouldn't it be easier just to shoot me?"

"And give you a nice quick and painless death? No way are you getting off that easily."

"Can you please try to calm down?" he asked, in the placating voice he always used when trying to fend off an angry Lisbon attack. "It was only a joke, you're overreacting."

"Overreacting? I'm the laughingstock of the CBI. My credibility is shot; I can't even look these people in the eye anymore let alone work with them. And it's all your fault!"

"Hey, it wasn't my idea for us to go on this undercover thing, you can't blame me for that."

"I don't remember proposing to me in the middle of the office being a part of the briefing. That was all you."

"Well if I remember rightly Agent Lisbon, you got right into it. Did you not say yes?"

"You backed me into a corner, I didn't have a choice!"

* * *

The disagreement had steadily progressed to a full-blown argument, the decibel level of their shouts getting higher with every word. When someone overheard what was going on, no time was wasted in getting the news out on the CBI grapevine, and it eventually reached the ears of Virgil Minelli.

Two women from Fraud walked by his office each holding cups of coffee, talking excitedly to another.

"Apparently they're having a massive fight over in Serious Crimes."

"Lover's tiff?"

"Oh, you know, fighting is like foreplay for them, they're probably enjoying every moment of it."

Minelli rolled his eyes as the two agents moved out of earshot. Perhaps Lisbon and her consultant hadn't got the memo that the case was over now, and with it, their 'engagement.' He really needed them to stop tearing strips off each other, and get back down to work, even if only to stop them turning into the office soap opera.

Sighing, and feeling distinctly like a high school principal, he got out of his chair and headed over to Serious Crimes, to break it up.

When he arrived, typically the bickering couple didn't even notice as they continued to argue, with Agents Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby all seated at their desks around them, smirking.

"Lisbon. Jane!" he said loudly, and suddenly they both went silent. "What's going on?" he asked, more quietly now that he had their full attention. "You've been back five minutes, and the entire building's in uproar."

"Well I-" Jane began.

"Shut up!" Lisbon cut across him. "I'll explain."

"Yes ma'am."

Minelli listened in amusement as Lisbon explained everything to him. He could see she was in considerable distress about how everything had turned out; he knew she'd been hoping for a quiet return and to be able to dive right back into her work again.

"Lisbon, I'll issue a memo to everybody to let them know the whole thing was faked and hopefully they'll leave you alone," he said after she'd finished. "And I should take back your fake rings too, they're on loan."

"Thank you sir," said Lisbon, relieved. She handed hers over without question. Jane took a little longer to obey, and Minelli got the feeling he was a little reluctant.

"This should help. But just in case, no more couple fights you two, OK?" he said, looking from one to the other. "Or at least can you keep it down to a dull roar?"

Lisbon looked embarrassed. Jane chuckled to himself.

"Sure thing, Virgil," he said.

* * *

After her superior had left, Lisbon immediately felt better. This had been the worst first day back she could possibly have imagined, thanks in no small part to her asshole consultant, but thank God, it would soon be over. Her life would be restored to order, starting right now.

"All right," she said, turning to Cho, suddenly business-like. "Minelli told me you guys were having trouble with a case. I want you guys to fill me in on it and we'll figure out where we go next. Jane, go have a nap or something," she said, gesturing towards his couch.

"Now Lisbon, are you sure that's a good idea? Because I bet as soon as I go and lie down, you'll be coming over begging me for my brilliant theories and insights." Better I just stay here and help."

She sighed, rubbing her temples.

"I think I've had about as much of you as I can take this week Jane," she said. "Go to your couch, we'll come get you if we need you. Just please, get out of my sight."

She didn't say it with anger or contempt. She just needed a break from him messing with her mind. She needed to clear her head, and she couldn't do that with him hovering over her shoulder all day.

To her very great surprise, without any further comment, Jane rose and did as he was told.

She turned back to her team. "Enough time has been wasted this morning, and there's a family waiting to find out what happened to their daughter. Let's do our jobs and find out."

Rigsby and Van Pelt both returned to their computers, but Cho didn't.

"Boss?" he said.

She sighed again. "What is it Cho?"

"Welcome back."

* * *

Banished to his couch, Jane smiled to himself as he relaxed onto the soft leather again. He had missed his couch; the one at the house just couldn't compare. He'd also missed the cacophony of ringing telephones and whirring fax machines that surrounded him during his naps at the CBI. The noise had never disturbed him; he found it soothing. Of course, it wasn't quite as soothing as having Lisbon in his arms, but unfortunately that was not an option at the moment.

He supposed he couldn't really blame her for wanting to get rid of him for a while, she'd had a rough day, and admittedly, he hadn't really done anything to make it any easier for her, (one could even argue that he'd done his very best to make it worse.) He was prepared to bet that he wasn't scoring any points in the 'convince her to have a relationship with him' department today either; goading her probably wasn't the best approach.

He always tended to get a little petty when things didn't turn out the way he wanted them to; it was a personality flaw that he had long since accepted about himself. And at the moment it was an especially big upset to him, to be denied the woman he loved, for her to pretend that everything they had shared had meant nothing and could be easily dismissed.

Still, even by his standards, he'd been a prize jerk today, and he owed her an apology. And it occurred to him now that he'd never actually told her how he felt about her. He'd hinted at it, and he figured their two nights together had spoken for themselves. But he'd never actually _said_ it.

He looked down at his left hand, ringless for the first time in over ten years. His real wedding ring was in his pocket, ready for him to put back on, but right now, through the eyes of a casual onlooker he was a free man, tied to no-one, able to do as he pleased.

Was he ready for this? Once he said it, he wouldn't be able to take it back. However she responded, for better or for worse, it would change everything. Again.

He heard Lisbon's voice, cursing at the coffeemaker as it malfunctioned yet again. If she were alone in the room, he wouldn't have put it past her to stamp her foot in frustration but she was too professional to do with witnesses everywhere. Even from this distance, he could see the tension in her shoulders as she reached for some sugar. Things must not be going well with the case either, because she was stirring her coffee extra-fast today, a sure sign that she was agitated.

God, how he loved her. Even when she was shouting herself hoarse at him, he couldn't picture anyone else alive that he would rather be with. She was far from perfect, but so was he, and he knew they could be great together if only they gave it a chance.

It was up to him to make the first move, because there was no way she was going to.

* * *

Night fell at the CBI, and without any significant breaks in the case, Lisbon had sent the rest of the team home to get some sleep and look over it with fresh eyes in the morning. She herself had elected to stay behind to try to make a dent in the small mountain of paperwork that had arrived in her in-tray while she'd been away.

Jane she assumed, planned to spend the night at the CBI, she'd hadn't seen him leave, nor had he poked his head in to say goodnight like usual. But of course, that might be because he thought she was still mad at him. She wasn't. She was just tired. Very, very tired.

It was good to be back in her office again, with everything exactly the way she had left it. According to Cho, nobody had been in it all week except the maintenance staff on Wednesday to clean the glass.

She thought she'd work for another half-hour and then call it quits for the night. As she reached for the next file, there was a soft tap on the door. Jane.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Hey," she said. "You're knocking now?"

He shrugged. "Apparently it's polite. Can I come in?"

"Since when do you ever ask?"

"I could just barge right in if you'd prefer. But I've heard people respond positively to this whole 'politeness' thing. Thought I'd try it out."

"It certainly works for me. Come in."

He took a seat opposite her, and silence fell while she began to skim the next file. She could feel his eyes on her; it was unnerving.

"Got a call from Nick," she said to break the uncomfortable moment. "The raids were a success. Twelve arrests were made, all down to our intel."

"That's great. Well done us."

She waited for more. But it didn't come. Where was the anti-Nick tirade she'd gotten so used to over the week?

"That's it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, usually when I mention Nick I can't even finish my sentence before you start abusing him."

He shrugged again, and Lisbon found herself putting down her file. Something was definitely up.

"He mentioned that he might be coming down to Sacramento later in the year," she said. "So we could catch up properly without a case hanging over our heads."

"I'm sure you'll look forward to that."

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded to know. She didn't know who this imposter sitting before her was, but it certainly was not Patrick Jane.

"You don't like it when I say bad things about Agent Sheens," said Jane solemnly.

"And since when do you give a damn about stuff like that? Be obnoxious, be an asshole. Be _you._ Because this isn't you."

She hated it when he did this to her. Where had this pensive side come from? Every time she thought him figured out, he threw her another curveball.

He looked up to meet her eyes. "Lisbon I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For what I did to you today. The thing with Katie, and the team. I know I made things harder for you and I shouldn't have."

Lisbon couldn't quite believe what she was hearing; in fact she was half expecting him to break out into a smile and shout 'April Fool!' even though it was May. He was apologising to her. And unless she was very much mistaken, he'd actually meant it.

"Apology accepted," she said, returning to her paperwork, and the weird silence fell again.

After a minute or two, Jane spoke up.

"Don't you want to know _why_ I was acting that way?"

She didn't even look up from the form she was perusing. "Not really. 'Jackass' is pretty much your default setting."

He reached over, took the piece of paper out of her hand, and laced her fingers in with his.

"What are you doing?" she said, trying to wrench it away. "Are you crazy?"

"Stop," he said. "Please, just for a minute, can you stop talking and listen to me?"

She sent him a look of deepest suspicion, but she didn't try to speak. This could be his one and only chance. He mustn't blow it.

"All the time we've been in L.A and through everything that happened, you've always said that when we got home everything was supposed to go back to normal. And I've been trying. I really have. I've been trying so hard to get back to the way we used to be, with the bickering and arguing. But to be honest, I don't think we can. Whether we like it or not, things are different between us now, and there's no way to get around it."

"But-"

"We can deny it all we want but at the end of the day, we can't erase what happened in L.A. And I don't want to."

He wondered if she'd noticed that there was no ring on his finger. He'd decided that, while not ready to take it off completely, he'd keep it off just for this. He couldn't have a symbol of his commitment to one woman on his finger, while he confessed his love for another. It was just_ wrong_.

"What happened between us in L.A was pretty much a confirmation for me of something I've known deep down for a long time. You already gave me a second chance by signing on with me, and even though I put you through all kinds of hell you still won't give up on me. I know it's wrong, and inconvenient and all the bad things in the world, but there's something that I need to say, and you need to hear."

He heard her catch her breath, and thought she might have guessed what was coming.

"I'm not a good prospect, or a solid investment. There's so much uncertainty in my life that sometimes I don't even know where I'm going on any given day. Pretty much the only thing I _am_ sure of is that anything good in my life is because of you. And I know I'm doing you a huge disservice because you deserve so much better, but I've always been a selfish kind of guy."

She let out a nervous little laugh, and his hand tightened on hers.

"Teresa Lisbon, I love you."

* * *

**We haven't had a nice cliffhanger in a while, so I thought I'd throw one in here. Was that mean of me?**

**I was going to hold off on the 'L' word until the very end of the story, but as I was writing this chapter, it just felt right to put it in here.**

**I envision that there will only be one or possibly two more chapters after this one. **

**Come back next time to find how Lisbon felt about Jane's confession!**


	17. Chapter 17

**So here we have it everybody. The end of the line. The final chapter of 'Dual Deception.'**

**Before you start reading, I just want to once again say a huge thank you to everybody who has read, reviewed, favourited and alerted. The response to this story has been phenomenal, and way beyond anything I could have ever expected.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it. I swear I don't.**

**I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long for this one, and that you enjoy.**

* * *

There were only three times in her life when Teresa Lisbon had ever truly considered herself lost for words.

The first was when the uniformed police officer turned up at the front door when she was twelve to tell them that there had been an accident. She hadn't uttered a word for two entire days after that had happened. It had taken all her brainpower and all her willpower to continue to breathe, stand, and even try to get her head around the reality that her mother was never coming home.

The second was when she came home from school one afternoon to find her brother unconscious on the kitchen floor, bleeding from the head, and her father standing next to him gazing transfixed at his hands, the knuckles stained with blood, as if he couldn't believe what he had done.

The third was when Patrick Jane had cornered her in her office, taken her by the hand, and told her that he loved her.

The first time, she had managed to pull herself out of the spiralling darkness by realizing that if she didn't, she would have no family left at all. She was the eldest child, and the only daughter, now the woman of the house and the surrogate mother. It was more pressure then any twelve year old should ever have to endure, but she'd known that she simply didn't have a choice.

The second time, she had ordered herself not to collapse under the anguish of what she'd seen. She'd needed to stay strong, to get herself and her brothers out of this situation, of a father so bereaved by the loss of his wife that he could take out his anger at the injustice of the world on his own flesh and blood.

The third time, she'd admit, she could have handled better.

It was like her brain had somehow frozen itself, her entire world had ceased to exist as she tried to process what he'd said. He loved her. He _loved_ her. Nobody had ever said that to her before. She'd started to believe that maybe nobody ever would. And now, finally, someone had. And not just any someone, but the man of her dreams. People could go their whole lives without ever finding their soulmate, and hers had practically fallen into her lap.

It was kind of hard to believe it was even real. Things like this didn't happen in real life, at least not to people like her. It happened to young, beautiful women with their whole lives ahead of them, not to thirty-something homicide cops with enough baggage to fill an airport.

A silent minute passed between them. She knew she was being unfair to him; she at least owed him an acknowledgement that she had heard and understood. Rejection was obviously the worst result of confessing one's feelings, but no response at all wasn't all that much better.

The shock started to wear off, and the panic set in. What did this mean for them now? Surely they couldn't go back to what they were, as much as she would have liked to. Everything had been turned on its head.

If it were anyone else, her silence would have been interpreted as a point-blank rejection, but Jane had seemed to understand the strange mindset she was in, and even seemed to have expected it.

"You don't have to say anything," he said gently, squeezing her hand, a small smile on his face. "I'm going to leave you alone now; I know you're going to need time to get your head around this." A brief pause, while he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He let her hand go, and rose from his seat. It was like she was watching him through a stranger's eyes, as he walked around the desk. He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head up so his eyes locked onto hers again.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I just made things ten times worse for you. But you had to know."

He bent down, and kissed her forehead.

"We'll have to talk about this," he said, still in that quiet, gentle tone. "Let me know when you're ready."

And then he'd left her office, and the instant he'd disappeared, she'd buried her face in her hands, not knowing what to do or say.

* * *

A month had passed since the 'L' word, and still, they hadn't talked about it. The day afterwards, and every day since, they had carried on as normally as possible, as though it had never happened.

To Jane, it had been thirty days of waiting. Waiting and waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to tell him how she was feeling. But as each day passed without so much as a hint from her, the tiniest bit of anxiety began to creep up on him. Even for Lisbon, the master procrastinator of all things emotional, this was a long time. He was getting to the point now that he almost didn't care whether it was good or bad. He just wanted to _know_.

He knew he couldn't, mustn't, push her for an answer, she wouldn't appreciate being rushed, and it would not do him any favours. He was a patient man; he'd been waiting for Red John to show his murderous face for the best part of ten years, a month should have been easy.

But it wasn't.

He'd always prided himself on being pretty good at knowing what Lisbon was thinking; he'd learned to read the subtle signals over the years. He knew how to identify happy, sad, angry, frustrated, frightened (though that was one of the hardest to spot as she took great care to hide it) and every emotion in between. But right now, he didn't have a clue. It seemed that he had developed some kind of block about it. It was maddening. He could look up from his couch into her office and see her _right there_, but not be any closer to knowing what was going on inside her head.

Perhaps _he_ was the problem. Maybe she was still giving off those emotional hints, and somewhere deep in his subconscious he was afraid of finding out what they meant. Any time before that he'd suggested a potential relationship between them, she'd shut him down, and now there was nothing more he could say. The ball was in her court now, any future they might have together in her hands.

And so, he continued to wait.

* * *

Lisbon left the CBI well after the sun had set, and most people had left for the day. She wasn't staying late very much at the moment, for fear she might be alone with her consultant and he might want to 'talk' again. It was strange. A month ago, she wouldn't have thought anything of being at the CBI for hours, just the two of them, and now she tried to avoid it at all costs.

Tonight it had been okay though as she knew for a fact that he had already left. She'd overhead Rigsby telling him he'd been acting weird, and that the two of them and Cho should go out for a drink. Jane had grudgingly accepted the invitation, and she'd watched from her office as the three of them took off for the night.

She supposed she should have guessed that the rest of the team would notice something was off. They were all perceptive people, detectives no less, and though she'd tried valiantly to keep everything going the way it always had, there was no point pretending that things hadn't changed.

Jane didn't camp out on the couch in her office anymore, and when they were investigating cases or questioning suspects, he tended to go with one of the others. Instead of delivering coffee to her by hand now, he would wait until she left her office for whatever reason, and when she returned it would be waiting for her on her desk. Gradually, they had progressed from spending the vast majority of their day together to seeing very little of each other, and even then, for only a few minutes at a time.

She knew why he was keeping his distance. He was trying not to put pressure on her, or make her feel obligated to talk about the 'L' word before she wanted to. She appreciated that, as she knew that if he ever did decide to put her on the spot, she wouldn't know what to say. He had handed her all the control, and allowed her to do everything to her own schedule.

Even so, she couldn't help noticing just what her prolonged silence was doing to him. She knew she was hurting him a little more with every day, and that she should really just put an end to it already. Her previous experiences had taught her that anything that was causing her this much doubt and indecision had to be a bad thing, and fairly solid evidence that she shouldn't be doing it.

But if she told him that, obviously he'd want to know why, and she'd be lying if she said it was because she didn't feel the same way. She may not have the courage to tell him so just yet, but she loved him too, and if circumstances were different she'd have no hesitation in allowing herself to have what they both wanted so much.

Her head was pulling her in one direction and her heart was pulling her in another. And here she was, stuck in the middle just trying to hold herself together.

She couldn't keep stringing this situation out much longer, it wasn't fair to either of them, and it certainly wasn't conducive to their working environment. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore all the obstacles in their way. The combination of the CBI, Red John, and Jane's lost wife; even just one of those things would send most people running for the hills, and she was facing the trifecta. It was just too much.

Tomorrow, she would tell him. It would break her heart all over again, but it was the right thing to do. She owed him the truth. Though she thought she might omit the part about how she loved him too.

That piece of information was probably best kept to herself.

* * *

"Another round?" Rigsby asked, as the three guys drained their beers.

"Sure," said Cho. "You buying?"

"Oh come on guys," Rigsby complained, looking pleadingly from one to the other. "I've gotten the last two rounds, isn't it someone else's turn now?"

"Sorry man, out of cash," said Cho.

"Jane?"

"Me too," Jane lied easily. "Cleaned out." He smiled innocently at Rigsby, who scowled.

"Fine," he said reluctantly. "But next time we do this, you guys are buying drinks all night."

"You got it, buddy," said Jane, grinning at him some more. "But in the meantime, Cho and I aren't getting any younger over here."

Rolling his eyes and cursing them under his breath, Rigsby went to join the crowd clamouring for service at the bar, leaving Jane and Cho alone.

"So, what's with you and the boss?" asked Cho, in the super-direct fashion that only Cho could. "I know something happened while you were away, and you two have been weird around each other for weeks. Are you guys a thing now or not?"

"There's nothing going on between me and Lisbon."

"But you want there to be."

A statement, not a question. Jane didn't bother denying it. There was just no point in lying to Cho; he'd always get the truth out in the end. He could be as ruthless and hardheaded in real life as he was in the interrogation room.

"It's not what _she_ wants."

"You sure about that?" asked Cho.

Jane thought back over their trip and everything that had happened since, and how she'd fought the change in their relationship at every turn. How he'd told her he loved her a month ago, and still was yet to find out where she stood on the matter.

"Pretty sure," he said.

"Pretty sure?" Cho repeated, with an air of mild surprise. "Kind of sounds like you've got doubts."

"Cho, what's your angle here?" asked Jane, a little irritably. He'd spent so much time thinking about nothing else, he didn't need Cho poking and prodding as well.

"There's no angle," said Cho flatly. "I told you before, what you and the boss do or don't do on your own time doesn't concern me. It's like Rigsby and Van Pelt all over again." He rolled his eyes. "And if you keep going the way you're going it's going to end up the exact same way."

Rigsby returned with three new beers and to Jane's relief, engaged Cho in conversation about the baseball game on the television mounted to the wall, leaving him free to let his mind wander where it would.

He'd never considered before that Rigsby was in pretty much the same situation that he was. It was clear to anyone how very much he loved Van Pelt, and also how much he loved his job. Most of Rigsby's problems seemed to boil down to not being able to choose between them.

The CBI had stood in the way of Van Pelt and Rigsby the same way it stood in the way of Lisbon and himself. He knew Lisbon would stand by the bureau until the bitter end, so if there was ever going to be a chance for them, it was up to him to remove that obstacle from their path. And the only way to do that would be to quit his job.

It sounded so easy. He knew he would be able to find work with another police department, it was well known in cop circles that he was a big part of the reason the CBI had such a high closure rate. The rest of the team would be OK, Lisbon told him all the time that they'd been perfectly able to close cases before he'd turned up, and he believed her. In theory, it seemed like the perfect solution.

But it was so much more then giving up an official ID card and a weekly paycheque. It meant giving up his couch in the office, it meant giving up a place to spend his sleepless nights and those were just the small things. It also meant giving up Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt, his surrogate family, and giving up access to the Red John case, and with that, giving up any hope he might have of vengeance for his wife and daughter. It was a lot to sacrifice, even for someone as wonderful as Lisbon.

If he chose Lisbon, it meant he had closed the book on Angela and Charlotte, had given up completely on his mission and his past. If he chose the CBI, it meant he was resigning himself to loving her from a distance forever, essentially throwing away a potential future, one where he might actually have been happy. Either way, he lost.

He wasn't ready to give either of them up. He had to find a way to have both. He was Patrick Jane for God's sake; he made his living out of taking risks, and making the impossible possible. He could work this out.

* * *

Lisbon switched off her desk lamp, plunging her office into darkness as she prepared to leave for the night. She'd stayed only ten minutes more then she'd originally planned, so instead of walking out into an entirely deserted bullpen, there were still a couple of people here and there still working away.

She pressed the button for the elevator with one hand, pressing buttons on her cell phone with the other. She heard the _click, click, click_ of high heels approaching from behind.

"Hi Lisbon."

Katie. Though she seemed a little less then her usual effervescent self this evening. Her smile wasn't as quite as wide it normally was, and her mascara was smudged at the corners of her eyes, as if she'd been crying.

The doors opened, and they walked into the elevator. They had just begun to move, when Katie let out a muffled sob.

"Katie, are you okay?"

"Oh it's no big deal," said Katie, forcing another smile. "I just got dumped. By text message."

Internally, Lisbon cringed, wishing she hadn't said anything. She hated being drawn into personal conversations like this; she never knew what to do or what to say.

"Another asshole," Katie added, and Lisbon figured she was speaking more to herself then her. "I sure know how to pick them."

"I'm sorry," said Lisbon awkwardly, pleading with the stupid elevator to hurry up already.

"That's OK," said Katie. "Guess we can't all have your luck, hey?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh please Lisbon," said Katie, half-smiling. "The marriage may have been fake, but you and that gorgeous consultant of yours have got something special. Everyone can see it."

The doors opened before Lisbon had time to respond, and the two women stepped out of it.

"A word to the wise," said Katie, just before they parted. "Do something about it before too long. If you don't hurry up, you might miss your chance. Most women in this office would kill to be Patrick Jane's girl."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this, Jane?"

This wasn't the first time Virgil Minelli had been surprised by an early morning visit from Patrick Jane, and by now he'd learnt that it could never mean anything good. Most of the time it was because of some insane plan that Lisbon wouldn't let him do without running it by Minelli first, and even then Jane tended to skate over the most illegal points when he described it to him. Minelli thought the whole process was really rather pointless, because whether he gave permission or not, it was guaranteed that Jane would do it anyway.

This morning however, Jane had arrived of his own free will, and they had actually managed to have a frank conversation. Would wonders never cease?

"I've got myself into a bit of a bind, Virgil, and this is the only way I think I can get myself out of it."

"Can't Lisbon help you out?"

Indeed, he didn't think there was anything his senior agent wouldn't do for her consultant. She would complain and curse about him day in, day out, but when push came to shove, she'd defend him to the hilt.

Jane smiled ruefully. "She's sort of part of the problem."

"Do I want to know?"

"Trust me. You really don't."

"All right, I guess it's settled then," said Minelli, eyeing him thoughtfully. "I really hope you know what you're doing."

Jane held out a hand for him to shake. "So do I," he said.

* * *

Lisbon had woken up that morning with an odd sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had stayed there as she showered and dressed, made a cup of coffee and eventually left for work. She supposed this was what it felt like to know that you were about to sabotage something that might make you happier then you'd been in a long time.

She tried to stop herself from thinking about it as she parked her car. She was doing the right thing for herself and Jane. This way, she could go back to doing her job without this hanging over her head, and all the other women in the office could squabble over Jane to their heart's content.

She looked to the left and saw his little blue car parked a few spots down from hers. He was here already, which was good. It was probably best to get this over with as quickly as possible.

* * *

Jane knew he was taking a gamble with this idea, knew there was a thousand ways in which he could regret it, but after thinking it through nearly all of last night, it was the best he could come up with.

He looked at the time on his cell phone. 8:30. She'd be here soon.

After a few minutes, the elevator dinged and there she was, accompanied by Van Pelt who must have arrived at about the same time. He smiled at them both.

"Good morning, ladies," he said.

Van Pelt smiled back. "Morning, Jane," she said. Lisbon said nothing, but simply nodded her head to acknowledge he had spoken and proceeded to her office. He watched her through the window as she set down the things she was carrying. She looked a bit apprehensive this morning, as though she was about to do something she really didn't want to do.

Van Pelt got quietly behind her desk, powered up her computer, and set to work. Jane walked over to his mostly unused desk in the corner, and started rummaging through its contents. Considering he didn't often sit at it, he was a little surprised at how much rubbish had managed to find its way in there.

After a few minutes, he heard the door to her office open.

"Jane?" she called out, quietly. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," he said, keeping his tone as light and casual as he could. "Just let me finish up here."

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Cleaning out my desk," he said. "I'm sure whoever has it next won't appreciate all my crap cluttering it up."

"What?"

She said it so loudly, and with such surprise, that a few people passing by, sent curious looks their way. Van Pelt instantly abandoned her computer and looked up at Jane.

"You quit?" she asked.

"Talked to Minelli this morning and arranged everything," Jane said. "Today is my last official day as a member of the Serious Crimes unit."

"But don't you have to give two week's notice?" asked Van Pelt.

"They made an exception," said Jane, shrugging. "Guess they just couldn't wait to disassociate themselves from me."

Van Pelt looked to Lisbon, both with an equal amount of shock on their faces. Lisbon of course, recovered first.

"Jane, come to my office please," she said.

He grinned at her. "Your wish, my command."

As the door closed behind them, he saw Rigsby enter the bullpen, and Van Pelt fling herself from her chair and go over to him, obviously relaying the news of his surprise departure. He saw Rigsby's jaw drop and then the two of them got into what looked like a whispered conversation.

Lisbon cleared her throat loudly, drawing his attention back to her. "Jane, what the _hell_ are you doing?" she demanded to know, without preamble.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, casually.

Don't be a smartass," she snapped. "Why are you doing this? And it better not be for the reason I think it is, or I will-"

"And what reason do you think it is?"

"You know."

"I really don't think I do. You'll have to spell it out for me."

"Stop screwing with me, Jane. Just tell me the truth."

Silence fell. Outside they heard the elevator ping again, and Jane looked over his shoulder to see Cho walk out of it, only to be accosted immediately by the other two.

"OK," he said. "The truth. The truth is that I don't see any other option here. I've tried to be patient and give you time, but it's been so long now and you haven't said a word. The truth is, I love you and I want to be with you, and I know that as long as the CBI is a factor, there's no chance of it. So I'm taking it out of the equation."

"Jane, that's ridiculous," she said, but the anger had dissipated now. "You need this job, you can't throw it away for me."

"I don't need this job," he contradicted her. "I don't need _any_ job. I've got an ocean-side mansion in Malibu that's standing empty. All I have to do is sell it and I'll have more money at my disposal then I ever could have made from working here."

He hoped with all his heart that she wouldn't call his bluff on that one. He had no intention of selling his house, now or ever. Even if he never lived in it again and it just stood collecting dust through the years, he didn't think he'd be able to bring himself to give it up.

"I didn't mean the money," she said. "You need purpose in your life, you need company, you need friends. And I bet you didn't have any of those things until you came to work here."

"I coped fine without them before, I can do it again. And besides, this time, I won't be lonely because I'll have you." He shot her his best smile.

"But, your wife-"

"I'll always love Angela," he said. "And Charlotte too. And it's not going to be easy, and I can't promise that I won't think of them from time to time, but if you're willing to take this chance, I will do my very best to make you see that I love you just as much."

She refused to let herself be sidetracked; she had to stay on target. "Let's just say for the sake of argument, that you do quit. You'll have to give up your access to the Red John case." Surely, that would be enough to make him see sense, chasing Red John was practically his whole reason for being.

"I never said I was giving up on finding that bastard. I have contacts."

She didn't doubt that. She was sure that he would track down the serial killer eventually, with or without assistance from the CBI. But the idea of him facing Red John alone made her sick to her stomach. She'd decided long ago that whenever the two of them did have their final showdown, she would have to be there to watch his back, and try to stop him from doing something stupid. It was too big for him to tackle on his own. He may not want her there, might fight her every step of the way, but over her dead body was he going to just stroll into Red John's clutches.

"But just think about this," he added. "It'll be a lot harder to focus on revenge when I've got something to lose."

This was all wrong. She was just supposed to be his boss, not his 'something to lose.' How had they ended up this way?

* * *

Fortunately, Lisbon hadn't bothered to draw the blinds over her office windows, so Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho had a clear view of their boss and consultant laying into each other.

"Maybe this is a good thing," said Van Pelt with unconvincing cheeriness. "Having Jane gone has got to help with Lisbon's stress levels."

"Are you crazy?" asked Rigsby. "Jane pissing her off every day is the best thing that he can do for Lisbon, it gives her a chance to blow off steam. If he's gone, she won't have an outlet for all her pent-up anger, so she'll take it out on _us_ instead."

"Well," said Van Pelt. "If anyone's going to talk him out leaving it'll be her. She's the only one he might listen to."

* * *

"Don't do this Patrick," said Lisbon. Somewhere during the conversation, they'd slipped into calling each other by their given names; they were talking about things that were far too personal for 'Jane' and 'Lisbon' to feel appropriate. "You and I never would have worked."

"Perhaps," he said. "But don't we owe it to ourselves to at least try? You're running out of excuses now, Teresa, it's time for us to make a decision. I've made mine. What's yours?"

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Lisbon. There was no new case so she stayed in her office doing paperwork for most of the day. She looked out into the bullpen to see Jane snoozing on his couch. It was hard to believe that tomorrow he wouldn't be here anymore. He was almost as much a part of the furniture as the couch itself.

She'd always wondered which of their team would be the first one to move on to bigger and better things, but she'd never even considered it would be Jane. She'd always imagined that even if the other three did eventually leave, she and Jane would never split up, partly because nobody else would have him, and partly because she didn't want them to.

She watched from the office as the rest of the team began packing up to leave for the night. Van Pelt embraced Jane briefly, before dropping a quick peck on his cheek, Rigsby clapped him on the back, and Cho shook hands and almost smiled in farewell.

Soon enough, however it was just the two of them left, and here he was standing at her office door again, perhaps for the last time.

"Working back again?" he asked, smiling in at her.

"Lots of paperwork," she said. "I could sit here for a month and never get on top of it."

"Think you could spare a minute to say goodnight?"

She got up from her chair, walked over to where he was standing and stopped right in front of him.

"You don't have to do this," she said.

"I'm not _doing_ anything," said Jane. "It's done. As of now, I'm a free agent." He smiled. "I kind of like the sound of that."

"Goodnight Patrick," she said, not wanting to prolong this any more than necessary.

"Goodnight Teresa. I'll see you around."

* * *

Jane was just unlocking his car, when he heard the front door to CBI open and quick footsteps hurrying towards him. He spun around and saw Lisbon skid to a stop just beside him.

"You were serious about quitting," she said, sounding a little breathless. "Did you mean it about the other stuff too?"

"Do you want to know how serious I am?" he asked. He dropped his keys on the ground, put his arms around her waist, and kissed her. She responded with enthusiasm and before they knew it, they were leaning up against the door of the car, her body pressed to his, and totally forgetting they were in an outdoor car park, where anyone could see them.

She was the one to break off the kiss, even though she would have happily stayed there all night.

"You surprised me today, Patrick," she said. "And now we don't work together anymore I guess I'm allowed to tell you that I love you too, and I do want us to try."

"I knew it," he said smiling his best smile.

"You did not," she protested.

"Did too," he retorted indignantly. "I'm psychic, haven't you heard?"

She rolled her eyes, before she pressed her lips to his again, and several minutes of blissful silence followed, until she once again, and very reluctantly, broke it off.

"I wish we could keep doing this all night," she said, as he kissed her nose, and then planted a long trail of kisses down her neck. "But I've got so much work to do."

"Don't worry about that now," he murmured against her skin. "We'll come back early tomorrow morning and you can catch up then. But tonight, I have a feeling that we might be a little busy." She could feel his hands slipping up under her top, and somehow they still felt as good as the first time. Seriously, the man had magic fingers.

"I think you're right," she said, but then something sunk in. "Wait a minute, what do you mean '_we_' will come back early tomorrow. You don't work here anymore."

He let a chuckle, and she saw he had that smile on his face, the one that practically screamed 'I know something you don't know.'

"What?" she said, warily.

"I never actually said I quit," he said, trying not to laugh at the dumbfounded look on his brand-new girlfriend's face. "You just assumed, and I didn't correct you."

She glared him in such a way that said she would very soon be his _ex_-girlfriend if he didn't come up with an answer very, very quickly.

"I went to see Minelli this morning," he explained. "And I told him that I want to consult on a freelance, per-case basis."

"And he agreed to that?"

"He was hesitant at first, but when I pointed out that the new arrangement meant he was no longer responsible for whatever messes I get myself into, he went for it. I requested that I still be allowed to work with Serious Crimes, and he says he'll continue giving me access to the Red John case, as much as you see fit."

"Me?"

"He trusts your judgement. Everything will pretty much be the same as it's always been, except I won't be an official member of the team anymore. So we can walk back in there tomorrow and announce we're a couple, and they can't do a damn thing to stop us."

"I think we should just keep this between ourselves for a while," she said. "Unless we want another gossip storm like last time."

"Well you know what they say," he said. "If you're not being talked about, you're not relevant."

She smiled seductively at him, and licked her lips for good measure. Instantly, she saw the lust grow in his eyes.

"I kind of like the idea of a secret affair," she said, purposely making her voice low and husky. "More exciting, don't you think?" And far less likely to get her fired she thought to herself, but she figured it might ruin the mystique if she said it out loud.

He groaned. "You are going to kill me, woman," he said. "Doing that, here, where I can't do anything about it is just plain mean."

"And letting me spend the whole day under the impression that you were quitting isn't mean?" she asked, back in her normal voice now.

"That wasn't mean, that was tactics," he said.

"Tactics?" she repeated. "Like as in a basketball game."

"Not quite," said Jane. "More like going into battle. You can be pretty volatile when you want to be."

"I hate you," she snapped.

"I know," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I love you too. Now are we getting out of here or not?"

"Absolutely," she said. "I'll take my car and you can follow me to my place. We're not turning up together in the morning."

"Only you could find a way to make propositioning me sound totally legitimate," he said shaking his head. "I think I'm going to need a better offer then that."

She scowled at him, but then smiled wickedly. "OK," she said. "How's this?"

She looked around for anyone lingering nearby, and then gave him a long, lingering kiss on the lips.

"It's been long day, and I could really use a long, hot, _steamy_ shower," she whispered. "Would you care to join me?"

* * *

**So after 17 chapters and many, many months, we have finally come to the end of 'Dual Deception.' I hope you liked the conclusion, and that it satisfied everyone's shipper tendencies. This story has been my main FF project for quite a long time now, so I have no idea what I'll do next, but from previous experience I'm usually only just done with a multichap before I throw myself into another one, so I'll most probably be back, if you'll have me.**

**Thanks again to everyone for your feedback, and unfailing patience with my very slow updates! I really am sorry about that. :)**


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